


Not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things

by I_Require_Holy_Water



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Also rating says things about the romantic bits, Alternate Universe - High School, Blood, Description of blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, It’ll get more romantic as it progresses, Jack’s just a nasty bitch, M/M, Mild description of Puke, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Piggy is absolutely a whiny bitch, Ralphs lowkey a whiny bitch, Ralphs the soccer team captain, Romantic Face Punching, Soft boys!!, They hate each other with a passion, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Verbal Fighting, homophobic parents, nsfw mentions, physical fighting, thanksss, they’re all 18
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26737675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Require_Holy_Water/pseuds/I_Require_Holy_Water
Summary: Jack and Ralph get paired up together for a 6 week long book project. It’s like Satan himself gave them a one way ticket to hell, seeing as theres nothing worse to either boy than be with each other for that long.But some people aren’t always what they seem.
Relationships: Jack Merridew/Ralph, Roger/Simon (Lord of the Flies)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 80





	1. I

Jack Merridew didn’t really fancy school that much. Sure, it was technically necessary for him to get by in life but about halfway through his seventh year of the personal hell his uptight parents threw him in, he decided it really wasn’t worth it anymore. Nobody was home to yell at him for his abnormally awful grades, as both of his parents ran their multi-million dollar company. With this neglect came a newfound freedom. There was nobody telling him what to do anymore, so he decided to make his own rules. A set he chose to live by. It had gotten him this far, so who was saying that it wouldn’t get him any farther? It was a short list, not very strict but strict enough to stop him from being in serious trouble. The good thing was that he was slick enough to get away with most of the illegal activities he participated in. It didn’t take long before the kids around him gave him a reputation. And well, the same rules he made to keep only him in check gave him Roger, who ended up being good enough company to make Jack satisfied. Roger was his main source of information anyways. The raven haired boy managed to sneak around when nobody was looking and figure things out about people that really should never see the light of day. Better friend than foe. The only downside to having Roger by his side was the endless complaining that the boy seemed to do.

  
  


“You’ve got no idea, Chief.” Jack growls at the idiotic nickname he’d been given years ago. “It’s a fucking book project. The actual book has gotta be lengthier than the Bible itself. On top of that, the partners are randomly assigned by the teacher.” Jack arches an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued in Roger’s long rant. Randomly assigned partners means he could theoretically get with the lass he’s been pining after for 7 months. Longer than he’d been going after anyone. And he was more than willing to play those cards. Roll the dice and take a chance. Get under her skin until he had plagued her every thought. Eventually that had to lead to him getting her in bed. It was how it turned out every time. Before he lets his thoughts wander too far, he drags his icy blue eyes back to Roger, who has since lit a cigarette and was currently taking a long drag. Jack watches the smoke circle the boy, almost creating a fake halo around his head. It’s a mock to God in Jack’s eyes because that boy is everything but an angel.

“Who’d you get paired up with?” Roger snorts, pulling the cigarette from his lips. He blows the smoke in Jack’s direction, scowling at Jack’s unresponsive behavior. He really loved to fuck with Jack, so these sorts of gestures had become their new normal. Despite what half the student body thought, their everyday interactions were everything but friendly. Occasional agreement over things that pissed them off, but mainly using each other for bets, party invites, and money. The lack of trust in one another was generally what made them so dangerous. They could break each other’s noses, but every time they’d end up back to each other. An odd choice for both boys, as neither of them had ever been proven to be very loyal, but it worked.

“Some random ass kid. Doesn’t talk, but will pull the weight. He told me that I’ll be working on the essay portion, so I hope he’s very familiar with disappointment. ‘Cause that’s all I’ll be showing up with the day this project is due.” Roger stomps out the cigarette, dark eyes meeting light ones. He throws his bag over his shoulder, leaning over the metal railing lining the school. For a second Jack thinks Roger is going to rock off. But he doesn’t. Regrettably, because something in Jack tells him that Roger’s partner won’t let him get away with doing nothing on this stupid project. 

  
  
  


Jack shows up to English late by only 10 minutes, a major feat for him as he usually doesn’t turn up at all. He really didn’t want to. Not today. But on the off chance he gets paired with that girl, he may as well be here to hear it. He plops down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, eyeing the room around him. A stack of books sit on the table, the spines reading ‘ _ Gone With The Wind _ .’ The stubby teacher at the front of the room clears her throat. She’s a timid lady, holding herself defensively. But the positive vibe that she wants to have is shining through. There’s a smile wide on her face, accentuating the softness of her cheeks. Jack really wants to punch it off.

“Okay class. As you know, we’re focusing on the Civil War era to go hand in hand with your history unit about the States! This book is a classic and a whooping 1037 pages. Very different from your last book, which came in at 200. Which is exactly why I made this a group project!” A series of groans echoes in the room, making the woman’s smile quiver. Good. She deserves the negative feedback. “I will be randomly assigning partners, so no picking your friends. Okay! When I call your name, please come get your copy and the worksheet telling you the requirements for this project.” Strings of objection fly across the room as the teacher talks over them to get partners together. Jack sighs, tuning her out until he can hear the dreaded syllables that form his name. Her red lipstick keeps going, but Jack can’t fully hear her. Not now anyways. 

“Jack Merridew and Ralph Allebach.”  _ Oh great. It’s not the lass he wanted.  _ Wait. Jack jolts up in his chair. No. No. No.  _ No.  _ He heard that wrong. He must’ve. But the smug look on his teachers features tell him he heard the woman exactly right. There was no fucking way Jack was going to do this project. Not with the fucking Golden Boy. He could think of 70 other things he’d rather do, most getting more brutal as he went down the mental list. Jack glances over to the head of blonde hair that belongs to a certain boy. Ralph Allebach hasn’t moved, didn’t even  _ twitch  _ when they were partnered up _ ,  _ and doesn’t look like he will until the teacher's useless ramble is over. Jack wanted to slice his own throat right then and there. If anyone was going to force him to pull his weight, it’d be Allebach. The boy believed in “teamwork” and “splitting everything equally!” It was probably why they’d never really gotten along. Even though that was an extreme understatement. Jack hates Allebach and Allebach hates him. It’s just how they work. It’s how they’ve always worked. But apparently not now. Not anymore. Not with this dickbag teaching class. Jack Merridew wants nothing more in this moment than to be able to fling himself at the nearest brick wall. 

The woman right in front of the chalkboard droned on and on about how this book  _ “changed her life”  _ and how  _ “everyone should have the dazzling experience of falling in love with these characters.” _ As far as Jack was concerned, they were written for the mind numbing feeling reading brought. And profits for the author. There was nothing important to analyze. So he didn’t do that at all. In fact, he didn’t hear a word the petite lady was saying. Because he couldn’t get past the fact that he was going to have to talk to Allebach for more than 5 minutes. Maybe he just wouldn’t show up to English until the project was over. Allebach may have his head on a spike, but it’d be a better punishment than spending hours with him just to barely slip by in English.

The English professor finally finished her long ass speech about how “equal parts need to be put in” and “if I see anyone slacking, I’ll call you out.” Jack snorts, knowing this lady couldn’t call out a fucking fly if it was on her food. He chooses not to dwell on the dwarf in charge and focuses on the fact that the assigned partners are now making their way to each other. Allebach turns in his chair, crooking his neck across the room, making a hideously comedic facial expression when he realizes Jack won’t be moving. The blond picks up two copies of the book and the ridiculously thick packet on his way over, lips forming words nobody but he can hear. 

The so-called Golden boy slides into a chair backwards, facing Jack despite the actual piece of furniture turned the other way. 

“Okay so this can be super easy, or it can be difficult. Which one are you gonna pick, Jack?” The redhead wants to punch his partner straight in the mouth, but just scowls and turns his attention to his phone before forming a response that lacked a filter. 

“Two things. One, it’s Merridew to you. Two, I’m  _ not  _ doing this project with  _ you _ .” Allebach sighs and scuffs the toe of his beat up sneakers on the cheap tile lining the floors. 

“I’m not calling you Merridew. It’s not your name and it’s a stupid excuse to make it seem like you control me. We’re doing this together, so get used to being around me. Speaking of being around me, I’ll need your number and address. Unless you wanna work at my place, which is cool with me. I guess.” The blond’s words are so carefully calculated, like he thought about every syllable that left his mouth. Jack can't care less about this project, he just doesn’t want Ralph fucking Allebach to have his phone number. He’s half tempted to give him a fake one when the boy pulls out his own device and types in contact information quickly. Jack ignores the fact that he used the redhead's first name. He has to make a quick choice of fucking him over, or actually giving in. He chooses the latter. 

“There's no way I’m giving you my address. And don’t bother giving me yours. We’ll just work on this thing within these walls. And these walls only. Outside of here, I don’t know you and you  _ don’t. know. me _ .” Jack grits his teeth on the last phrase, making Allebach give him a stone cold glare. The boy looks like he’s about to say something, but closes his mouth quickly. Like every word with Jack could be the worst thing he’s ever said. And honestly, Allebach isn’t too far off. 

“Jack. You’re helping me because without me, you’ll fail this class. And without this credit, you won’t be able to graduate. So which do you want it to be. Another year of high school or 6 weeks with me?” Jack hates that he’s right. He hates Allebach because he’s always right. It makes him want to shove him to the ground until he finally wipes that cocky grin off his face. 

“Fine. But absolutely no going to each other’s houses. And this,” Jack gestures between them, making a face of mock disgust. “Means. Nothing.” Allebach leans forward in the chair, rocking it onto the two back legs as Jack speaks. His smirk comes back and the taller of the two wants nothing more than to slam the soccer captains face into the nearest desk. But he has a feeling the student body wouldn’t be too pleased if he fucked up the face of the famous Golden boy. Plus, one of his friends would probably stop Jack in the halls just to chew him out. The amount of soccer buddies Allebach had collected over the years was astonishingly high and almost impressive. Almost. Because the boy himself might be the stupidest person on planet Earth.

It isn't really that Jack  _ hates  _ Allebach per say. It’s just that the boy was given everything. He’s never had to work for what he wanted. He’s a spoiled brat, for lack of a better term. Everyone loves him, everyone worships the ground he walks on. It’s an idiotic idea. Maybe Jack’s jealous of Allebach. Maybe he wants what the boy has. 

There’s really no denying Allebach’s good looking. He’s got perpetually tan skin, crisp waves of blonde hair that falls perfectly on his forehead. He’s constantly brushing it out of his eyes, and looks like an idiot while doing it. But he looks like an idiot while doing everything. The boy in question bites his lip softly before giving Jack a response. There's a slight bite in his words, signaling to the redhead that Allebach wants a better response from his partner. 

“Works for me, I s'pose.” 


	2. II

Jack doesn’t see Allebach for the rest of the day, much to his luck. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hear about him. All. The. Time.

It’s always a gaggle of girls, long locks of hair pushed behind ears so they can hear their friends whisper about how Allebach looked at them for longer than 3 seconds, how they purposefully brushed their fingers against his and felt a  _ spark _ , or how he was oh-so kind to them today and he might, just maybe, fancy them. It all makes Jack disgusted with the lovesickness of his peers. Sure, he’s had random flings with nameless faces but nothing has ever struck him the way these girls obsess over Allebach. He swears one of them has a strand of the blond’s hair. 

“You look distracted.” Roger crushes the butt of his cigarette on the metal railing, watching as it falls a short distance to the ground underneath them. His metal water bottle - that smells so strongly of vodka Jack is shocked a teacher hasn’t confronted the boy - lays on its side, liquid leaking out and onto the pebbles both of them are standing on. Jack just grunts in response, lighting a cigarette simply to watch it burn this time. He knows second hand smoke is a killer. He doesn’t really care, as it has become a comfort. Between the packs his mother  _ has  _ to go through daily and the amount that Roger smokes, the smell just makes him feel safe. 

“I got paired with Allebach.” The end of the cigarette burns orange as Roger lets out a low whistle of what Jack can only assume is sympathy. He gives Jack a wide smile, mischief coming off of it in waves. The raven haired boy runs his tongue over his lip piercings, smile still prominent. Jack wants to shove his face into the ground to wipe the stupid smirk off, but starting a fight would only result in injuries he doesn’t quite need to be sporting.

“He’s gonna make you do at least half of it. A real shame he’s such a brick wall. Maybe if you got a more timid kid, you’d be able to scare him into stepping down.” Jack scowls, his lip curling up slightly in inexplicable anger. Something about how Roger speaks, like he’s so full of himself, like he’s always right, is rubbing Jack the wrong way today. It usually doesn’t bother him, he usually tries to match the boy’s confidence. Instead, he pushes himself off the railing, mumbling about needing to be home early today for family business. A believable lie due to his parent’s status, but Jack has a feeling he doesn’t quite have Roger entirely convinced.

  
  
  


The walk home is painfully lengthy when there’s nobody to try and shove off the edge of the pavement or take turns drinking cheap liquor with. The redhead tries to busy himself with his phone, his email reading 264 unread messages. He scoffs under his breath. Almost all of them are from worried teachers, trying to help with his slipping grades or his therapist, who’s taken too much time out of her day to try to fix a lost cause. 

Just as he’s about to email his therapist to find another patient to bother into submission, an unknown number texts him. 

_ Hey! This is Ralph. Read pages 1-50 tonight.  _

Jack snorts, dismissing the text without opening it. He’s sure Allebach doesn’t expect a response. He knows Jack too well. The boy’s phone chimes with another message, from the same exact number.

_ Jack, you can’t ignore me forever.  _

The redhead wants to smash his face in. If Allebach is going to bother him until the end of this stupid project, he may as well fling himself off of the nearest bridge and into oncoming traffic. He can’t imagine Allebach actually  _ wants  _ to read the brick of a book, unless he’s some sort of knowledge freak like his friend Piggy. Despite his better instinct, his fingers itch to hold the book, to pretend that he’s reading just to spite Allebach. The boy wouldn’t even see him, Jack just wants to see the look of anger on his face when he realizes that Jack ignored his directions. He’s sure it would piss him off. 

His phone chimes again and Jack’s ready to pitch it in the nearest public trash can. 

_ Jack, I need to know you saw this.  _

He scoffs, knowing the other boy did it just to get a response. But Jack can’t help his strange desire to trump Allebach, so he responds. With the quickest, most rushed sounding message he’s ever sent anyone.

_ Merridew** _

He powers his phone down after that, knowing that there’s no way in hell Allebach won’t spam him. But anything to evade the blond’s tactics is good enough for Jack now. And in the moment, Jack knows a couple of things. He needs to get home as quickly as he can, and he needs to light a cigarette. 

  
  


He approaches the small house he calls home in record timing, spending no time idling with Roger today. He really wishes he didn’t leave the raven haired boy, because he would’ve snatched up Jack’s phone and told Allebach, not so politely, to fuck off. It’s what makes Jack like him so much. His bluntness. However, Roger wasn’t there and the redhead is  _ sure  _ Allebach is going to have his head for such an unrelated response but Jack really could care less about what the Golden Boy thinks. 

“Fuckin’ idiot.” He mumbles to himself as he shoves the rusty key into an even rustier door handle. The house is eerily quiet, as it always is on a Tuesday afternoon. His mom was probably out with his father, doing ‘great things for their business!’ They usually didn’t show up until 5 am, and slept in long after Jack left the house for school. It was the glory of having parents who cared more about the rising digits in their bank account than their actual son. Jack had gotten used to it by now and couldn’t even recall the last conversation they had, let alone the last one they had that didn’t involve shouting and a handful of broken picture frames. He still had a scar from where his mother chucked a photo at him in blinding rage, the corner smacking the back of his head. He couldn’t remember anything about that day, just the stories and the scar that remained proving it to be true.

Despite the emptiness, the house smells of cigarette smoke, probably permanently now. Jack was raised around it, the scent didn’t bother him like it did other people. Usually anyone who came over, which just happened to be electricians and plumbers 89% of the time, would scrunch their nose up and force a smile on their face. It always made Jack stifle a laugh. Which always earned him a swift smack from his mother. 

“Asshat.” He murmurs, reading the note left on the kitchen table for him. It was definitely written by his father. The sloppy handwriting is way less legible than his mother’s cursive. He purses his lips, eyes scanning down the note before plopping down in one of the wicker chairs. He’s got nothing else to do. He really wants to spite Allebach, but the house is so painfully empty that he might go crazy if he has to just sit there. Reluctantly, he reaches in his backpack and pulls out his copy of  _ Gone With the Wind _ , slowly turning the first page and starting his agonizing journey that he knows this book will be. 

  
  


Jack doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, but it happens. Face down, on page 36. When he wakes, it’s dark and the house is groaning under the wind that’s blowing relentlessly outside. He has no idea what time it is, so he reaches blindly in the side pocket of his bag. Once he grabs it, he powers his phone on, blinking in the bright light it emits. 1:34 am. 7 unread messages, 4 of which are from Allebach. 

_ I’m not calling you Merridew. You have no power over me, despite what you think. 4:36 pm  _

_ Jack? 6:38 pm _

_ Okay I’m assuming you’re ignoring me or reading. See you tomorrow. 7:12 pm _

_...Goodnight. 11:54 pm _

Jack rolls his eyes upon reading the messages. Allebach was fighting a war he had to know he was going to lose. There was no way the boy actually thought he could convince Jack to take part in the project, besides reading the first 36 pages. He didn’t get through the 200 page book because he got bored after page 70. 

_ yeah, yeah. leave me alone _

He sends the message without really dwelling too much. He’s sure Allebach will see it tomorrow and respond with one of his sarcastic remarks that make anyone around him immediately want to smash his face into a cheap wooden desk, hoping that they’ll ruin the look he’s got going. Or maybe that’s just something Jack wants to do. Either way, he’s really not excited for the next 18 hours. 

_ Sorry. Just wanted to know. 1:40 am _

Jack can’t believe his eyes. Ralph Allebach, the schools Golden Boy, Captain of the soccer team, the it boy of the  _ fucking  _ century, was awake at 1 am. Not only that, he responded to Jack. The redhead thinks about responding, telling him that he told Allebach to leave him alone, and add on that he should be asleep at a time like this. But he doesn’t, he just smashes his head on the book opened underneath him, praying for sleep to come so he’ll have a decent excuse for not answering Allebach. 

  
  


School the next day is the usual pain in the ass. Not only is Jack dreading English, Roger appears to be busy or he simply didn’t want to show up. No matter the reason, Jack’s alone and the only comfort is the cigarette burning in between his fingers to a slow nub. It’s rare he actually puts them anywhere near his mouth, just lets the smoke fill his lungs. 

Jack hasn’t checked the time in what feels like hours. He’s probably got a solid 30 minutes until English. He’s burned through 4 cigarettes already, with no real intention of stopping soon. He has one sitting in between his fingers, burning dangerously close to his skin.

“Y’know second hand smokes a real killer.” The voice startled him into dropping the cigarette, a string of colourful curses following the action. His icy blue eyes meet with Allebach’s ocean ones. A small frown is playing on the boys lips and he looks horribly out of place. He has his bag slung over his shoulder, the book Jack now hates more than any piece of literature in his left hand. His right one rests on the strap of his bag, holding it in place.

“You’d think someone like me would know that Allebach.” 

“I would think you would.” He pauses, looking around his dreary surroundings. “You didn’t show up to class today. Any particular reason or are you just trying to get lung cancer?” Jack snorts, stomping the still burning cigarette out with the tip of his sneaker. He doesn’t reply other than that. He honestly didn’t really realize that he’d missed an entire period, but he’s happy he did. An hour and thirty minutes of Allebach doing what he was doing now would be unbearable. 

“I’m  _ trying  _ to avoid you. In case it wasn’t obvious to you.” Ralph purses his lips in what seems like amusement, carefully stepping around the litter on the ground. 

“Let me get this straight. You are trying to avoid the one person who can help you graduate because you’ve got an old grudge that’s from middle school? That’s low, even for you Merridew.” Jack doesn’t comment on how the blond uses his last name, instead he watches as the boy maneuvers his way closer to the redhead. Like every step he takes, he’s going to be injected with poison and crumple to the ground. He’s so careful in a place that’s meant to be used to be the exact opposite. Jack’s seen the fights that have occurred here. Injuries that would make Allebach’s stomach turn and his head reel. Words passing through lips that just might make the delicate boy  _ faint _ . 

“How about you leave, before I knock your teeth out.”

“I’d love to see you try. May I remind you, soccer captain. I’ve seen you fight up here enough to know your predictable patterns.” Jack swallows roughly, mumbling incoherent curses. “I’m on page 112. Catch up to me tonight or we’re going somewhere and I’ll help you catch up.”

“I don’t need your help.” Jack snarls, ignoring the grin that breaks out on Allebach’s face.

“Oh but you do.”


	3. III

Jack can’t seem to get Allebach’s confident sneer out of his head. He wants to shove the blond against the metal lockers, watch the chipped paint fall into his hair. Jack wants to feel his knuckles against Allebach’s jaw. He wants to break, to tear, to make him bleed. He wants to watch Allebach succumb to him, ocean blue eyes filled with fear, dripping over the edge like an overflowing sink. Jack’s a category 10 hurricane, and his only target is Ralph Allebach.

Jack spends the rest of the day thinking about all the things he’d do to Allebach if given the chance. Images of the boy with bruises decorating his cheekbones, blood streaming down his top lip, nose bent at a disgustingly broken angle, and a petrified look in his eyes flash through Jack’s mind like a terrifying movie. He wants nothing more than to act on his thoughts, but he doesn’t. He barely moves, twisting a pencil in between his fingers as his eyes stay locked on the front of the classroom. Jack figured that showing up to the final one wouldn’t be such a grueling task, especially after his run in with the school’s Hercules. He was wrong, as he usually is. The classroom became a silent study hall, leaving Jack to dwell in his thoughts. 

What irked him even more than Allebach himself was the fact that he could  _ hear  _ the girl to his right whispering about the blond under her breath, a dreamy look on her face. At this point, Jack is seconds away from cutting her tongue out so he doesn’t have to listen to  _ ‘His eyes are blue like the ocean, so easy to lose yourself in’  _ or  _ ‘the way his shirt stretches across his tight muscles.’ _ The girl does look up at him, Jack realizing that he’s been staring at her for a solid 3 minutes. He quickly averts his gaze, trying to focus on the sea of numbers scrawled on his calculus homework. Anything is better than thinking about Allebach any more than he already has.

  
  


Once the final bell releases its ear piercing ring, Jack’s phone buzzes with a message. Allebach’s number flashes across the screen and Jack groans, knowing there’s really no way to avoid answering this message. He's sure if he ignores the blond again, he’ll go to the front office and request for Jack’s address so he can hunt him down and force him to respond.

_ Page 112. Don’t forget. I can help you read, if you really need it.  _

Jack hates how Allebach makes him seem like he’s some sort of idiot. He can tell there’s sarcasm in the message, knowing exactly what it would sound like in the Golden boy’s voice. 

_ allebach, i’m not illiterate. but i’m not reading your stupid book _

And with that, Jack powers down his phone just as he did the day before. He only slightly wishes Roger was here, because the raven haired boy would be enough to scare even Allebach off. He just had that sort of effect on others. The one that made everyone want to run in the opposite direction. 

“Jack Merridew!” The redhead freezes as the shrill voice of Ralph Allebach calls his full name. The halls are practically empty now, the thick metal doors leading outside an easy 5 feet away. He could make a run for it. Face the soccer captains wrath later, when he feels like putting up a fight. Right now, all he wants is a cigarette and to be far far away from the boy who’s rapidly approaching Jack. Footsteps come closer until Jack can practically feel his partner’s anger radiating off him in waves. The redhead spins around, finally facing the blond, who has a seriously pissed off look on his face. Jack is almost proud he did that with one simple text message. 

“You can’t just ditch this project,” Allebach waves his hand around for emphasis, Jack raising his eyebrows in amusement, “You have to help me. And I’m not reading an 1037 page book, then doing all the dirty work so your precious grade doesn’t make you flunk out of school!” It’s almost impressive that nobody has come out to stop them. Allebach isn’t exactly trying to keep quiet, not to mention he looks and sounds like he’s seconds away from landing one on Jack’s jaw. Over a school project. That he knew Jack would never actually do. 

“Listen Allebach,” The other boy glares at him, probably for the use of his last name, “I looked over the questions and they look like something I could just google. Don’t get on my ass, because I’ll do whatever part you want. Just not with you.” Jack feels the punch to his cheek before Ralph actually lands it. It sends him staggering back, the sheer force behind it being what shocks him. He’s not surprised Allebach can throw a good punch, Jack’s seen him do it before. But the way Allebach is breathing heavy, fists clenched at his sides, head held high, just makes Jack’s stomach turn with what can only be blinding rage. 

“What the fuck.” He spits the swear before launching himself on the blond, who probably didn’t expect retaliation, as he lets Jack make his body collide with the metal of the lockers. The boy bangs his head on it, wincing, but still manages to claw at Jack in an attempt to get him to release his hold. 

“You really think that this is how we’re going to fix our problems?” Allebach wheezes out, gripping on the redhead’s forearm, which is held tightly over his throat. Jack can feel the blond swallow, it being so rough that he's sure it’s painful. “Or do you want to let me go and mess me up another day?” The cocky grin on Allebach’s face is painful to look at, just making the monster inside of Jack growl with a desire to tear into this boy and watch him bleed. 

“You punched me first.” Jack murmurs, trying his hardest to keep the rage from spilling into his voice. The blond takes in a breath, half of it sounding more like a strained wheeze. Jack’s never seen him go down this easy. That is, until Allebach’s knee swiftly collides with Jack’s crotch, the taller boy yelping in pain and releasing the blond immediately. Both boys are bent over, one gasping for air so quickly it’s almost worrying, the other trying to deal with the immense pain that was just dealt to his body. 

Jack ends up clenching his hands on the back of his skull, bent over on his knees. He's sure Allebach could kick his gut right now, but he really doesn’t care. The blond lets out a shaky breath that Jack barely catches. 

“God Jack,” Allebach just barely croaks it out, “I’m sorry.” Jack decides that now, and only now seeing as Allebach actually sounds like he’d do anything Jack asks, does he like the way his first name sounds in someone’s mouth.

  
  


Allebach lays against the locker for a bit, not moving until Jack himself stands, pain finally subsiding from his lower half. He’s surprised the blond stayed as long as he did. Almost like he’d been waiting for Jack to make a move. 

“I know I just kind of attacked your dick, and I’m probably the last person you want to be around right now…” Jack looks down at Allebach, praying he’s not about to say what the redhead thinks he’s about to say. If he does, Jack’s sure he’ll lose his mind. “But we’ve got a project to work on.” The redhead blinks slowly, making sure he heard that right. He doesn’t want to be within 100 feet of the soccer captain, let alone locked away in a room with him. There’s no possible way it wouldn’t end like what had just occurred between them. Something in his gut shifts. Jack doesn’t know what comes over him, maybe it’s that the fight hasn’t really processed properly through his mind. Perhaps it’s that Allebach looks so different when he’s on the ground, scared to even look at Jack. The boy swallows his pride and holds his hand out for the blond. His head jerks up, ocean blue eyes wide with an emotion Jack can’t quite put his finger on.

“My mom won’t be home until 3 am. We can work at mine.” He barely mumbles the words, but Allebach grabs his hand and hoists himself up, subsequently pulling Jack down. There’s a certain spark in his eyes that the redhead knows is the look he has before games he's certain he’ll win. It’s not cocky, but some sort of sweet mixture of excitement and confidence. The halls have completely emptied by now, and with Allebach just standing there, making no move to actually leave, Jack wonders if they’ve been locked in. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t stalk you. If you don’t wanna get stuck here, maybe start walking to your house?” It’s an innocent question, but enough to make Jack grumble his regrets. Allebach’s going to follow him home, he's sure of it. The boy won’t let him go back on his word now, and probably wouldn’t even if he got on his knees and begged. It’s one of the various traits Jack hates about Allebach. That he’s so stubborn. Like an unmovable brick wall, that won’t go down no matter the force you exhibit on it. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Jack moves forward, rolling his eyes at the blond’s question. He falls into step with the redhead quickly, bouncing up and down like a puppy. Jack wonders if he’s always like this when he finally gets his way.

“About how much I hate you.” Allebach furrows his brow, looking down at the pavement the two are walking on. Jack ignores the look and keeps moving, the road home suddenly feeling so much shorter than it ever has to him. 

“Why don’t you make a list?” Jack gives the blond a confused glare. “Of the things you hate about me. I think I’d want to know them.” Jack snorts, hoisting his bag further up his shoulder. He hates that he likes the other boy’s idea.

“Like I’d show you. You’d probably use it as a checklist of things you need to improve upon. Not that anyone besides me thinks you’re not all you’re cracked up to be.” Allebach gives him a sideways glance before leaning slightly closer. Jack continues, trying to ignore the closed distance. “In case you haven’t noticed, most of the female population thinks you’re a god. ‘ _ Oh how I’d kill to have his protective arms around me, pulling me close to his warm body. And those muscles! Gosh he must work out for hours!’ _ ” The shorter boy laughs at Jack’s impression, making the redhead scowl. He wasn’t sure that any other reaction would’ve been appropriate, but the fact that the boy is enjoying himself makes the situation worse for Jack somehow.

“You sure listen to them a lot for someone who doesn’t care.” Jack turns the sharp corner, his partner hot on his heels. He doesn’t like that the boy is so entertained by the topic of conversation, and he certainly doesn’t like how his face breaks out in a grin every time Jack opens his mouth to speak. 

“Whatever. We’re here anyways.” Allebach looks up at Jack’s house, a slight frown playing on his lips. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it quickly, almost as if he realized what he was going to say was inappropriate. Jack doesn’t blame him. The outside of the Merridew’s residence was extremely dreary. Like a dark beacon in a neighborhood full of light. If it were up to the redhead, he’d live anywhere else, with anyone else. It’s not like he sees his family at all anyways. 

“This was built in 1894.” The blond’s words make Jack jump back a bit, shocked by the boy’s knowledge. “Renovated in 1958, 1997, and 2006. It still looks exactly the same.” Allebach catches Jack’s bemused look and quickly continues. “I’ve got a photographic memory. It’s why I got into all honours classes. I read up on the houses in this neighborhood for 8th grade. This was the oldest one.” The boy wets his lips, glancing at Jack.

“Jesus fuck Ralph. Just go inside.” It doesn’t occur to Jack until 5 hours after the fact, that he just called Allebach by his first name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha didn’t think I’d update so soon ahahaha   
> ❤️❤️


	4. IV

Allebach plops down the first place he physically can, which is an old leather couch that permanently smells like cigarette smoke. Jack’s mother used to sit there, icy blue eyes always watching him, and smoke at least 4 cigarettes at a time. For some reason, the blond boy hasn’t commented on the stench of the house, and actually seems at ease with the overwhelming scent. 

“So… What page are you on again?” Allebach asks the question with such ease, probably expecting Jack to be somewhere close to the boy. He knows that he’s not going to enjoy hearing that Jack is only on page 36 and has no intention of making that number any higher. 

“36.” Just as suspected, the blond’s mouth drops open. Jack continues, trying to ignore the gesture that now makes him slightly self conscious, “I tried reading and fell asleep. I was just gonna google the questions anyways. Why bother reading a stupid book.” The redhead shifts his weight between his legs, wishing that the only seat in the room didn’t hold his partner’s weight.

“It’ll help you pass. Plus you’ll never have to do it again. Just this once can’t you care about your grades?” Jack scoffs, finally deciding on sitting on the cold hardwood floor. He would do anything to change the topic from his disregard for numbers on a page that determined his intelligence, but Allebach seems set on discussing how idiotic the school system thinks he is. He barely notices Allebach scoot over slightly, leaning closer to the freckled boy. 

“Listen Allebach, I really don’t want to discuss my _grades_ with someone like _you._ ” The blond frowns, looking down at Jack from the musty couch. He looks like he’s on the brink of continuing this line of conversation, but decides dropping it is for the betterment of their project. Both boys know that they can’t keep arguing like they have been for God knows how long. Neither of them will get the credit they need to achieve what they’re after. It hurts Jack inside knowing how different their dreams are. Allebach wants to be a soccer star, he's made this abundantly clear in every ‘pick your career’ lesson they’ve been in. Not to mention his batty friends, Jack can’t remember their names but can pinpoint their appearance, have egged him on every time he's presenting his future. Jack, on the other hand, just wants to graduate school and leave this disgusting hole he calls home. He would leave this place in the blink of an eye for a new life in a new place. He'd go to a local college and get a basic degree, he’d fall in love, he’d build a happy life from the ground up. He’d start his own business, he’d be successful. And most importantly, he’d be nothing like his father. 

The differences between them lie way further beyond just their dreams for the future. Allebach’s silly friends, the twig boy who is definitely the battiest kid Jack’s ever laid eyes on, and the chubby boy who won’t stop whining about every little inconvenience. He can’t imagine being able to stand more than 30 seconds between the whiner and the peacemaker. 

Jack presses his lips together, not really aware of how long both of them have been silent for. He glances up at Allebach, who now has a thick pair of glasses on his face, eyes scanning the words of the book. Jack decides that now, he wants to make that stupid list Allebach was talking about.

“Do you really want a list of things I hate about you?” Jack asks, his voice too small for him to be comfortable with. Allebach looks down sharply, glasses tilting down to the bridge of his nose. Jack retracts the statement immediately after, almost scared of the other boy’s reaction. “Unless you don’t want to see the list…”

“Oh no! I really want to. I think it’ll be beneficial to both of us. Maybe it’ll help you get some of your… disdain out.” Jack rolls his eyes, pulling out a sheet of paper and a red pen that’s dripping ink down the side. It’s the only thing he could find to write with, so he just settles on the broken pen.

“Number 1, I hate your…” Jack thinks for a bit, biting on the edge of the pen. Allebach raises an eyebrow from his laid out position on the couch. “I hate your stupid friends. Both of them are batty.”

“You hate Piggy and Simon?”

“Yeah sure.” Jack rolls his eyes, scrawling down the number one thing at the top of the page, starting it with ‘1)’. He annotates the side with the words ‘Piggy and Simon - both are equally batty.’ He knows Allebach is going to criticize his chicken scratch handwriting, but he doesn’t really care as of right now. If he leaves little notes, he’s sure Allebach will do the thing where he stifles a laugh, trying to hold back his laughter so he doesn’t let Jack feel the surge of self confidence he gets when Allebach shows that maybe, just maybe, Jack can break down some sort of barrier.

“Number 2, I hate your stupid glasses.” Allebach scoffs, closing the book around his thumb.

“You literally just saw my glasses today, how could you already hate them?”

“They just look dumb.” Jack mumbles, clearing his throat from a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. He doesn’t _need_ to prove these reasons to Allebach, so why is he trying to? He could just give the boy the list and let him read the words. Give him no context at all whatsoever. Jack scrawls in ‘Get better frames, they don’t fit your nose’ on the side, red ink bleeding together. The words are still readable, thanks to Jack’s shitty handwriting spacing the letters far enough apart so that the ink doesn’t actually run into other letters.

“Number 3, I hate your gaggle of girls that follow you everywhere and swoon over your every move.” Allebach breathes out, laughter lost somewhere in his chest. Jack knows that both of them are painfully aware of the blond’s fangirls. They’re at every one of his soccer games, outside every class he has, and even go to the extent of sitting at the table to his left at lunch. Jack has barely seen Allebach interact with any of them, usually a frown displayed on his face whenever they try to get too close. He’s usually absorbed in other activities anyways, the girls relying on just passing him in order to get a whiff of the new cologne he’s wearing, or close enough to see the lighter highlights in his hair. Jack swears he could tell Allebach more about himself than he actually knows because of the girl who sits next to him. Allebach just picks at his fingernails, eyebrows raised high, almost in an accusing way. 

“How am I supposed to be able to fix that? They’re gonna go after me no matter what I do. I could have a girlfriend and they’d still try and convince me that she wasn’t worth it and I should date them.” Jack snorts, making note of that on the side of the page. ‘Allebach can’t really change it, but it’s still his fault for being so perfect.’ Jack underlines perfect twice, just for an unneeded emphasis on the word. He’s sure the fair boy will get it, but just to make sure. Possibly prove some sort of point while he’s at it.

“That’s your problem, not mine. Number 4…” Jack trails off, mind drawing a blank for the first time in a long time when it comes to Allebach. He hates everything, he just knows he does. But for some reason his mind has simply stopped. No gears are turning, no thoughts plaguing his mind. He can’t think. 

“I’ll just work on it later. You came over to work on this dumb project, not learn about yourself. What page are you on?”

“Urm… 121. I’ll read from your page.” Jack bites his lip, holding the disagreement tight in his chest. He nods slowly, Allebach’s face lighting up as he takes a significant chunk of the book and flips it to the front. 

“Alright then, you’re gonna be here a while so get comfy Jack Merridew.” 

  
  


/ / /

  
  


He is indeed there a while. It takes them 2 hours to get to where the blond boy is, Jack moving up to the couch and somehow letting Ralph prop his feet on Jack’s thighs as he reads. The boy does have a very soothing voice, the redhead never feeling the urge to fall asleep, eyes trained on whichever line the other was reading. 

The sun sunk past the horizon 30 minutes before they finished, making Jack get up and turn the lamps on before returning to his previous position, no complaints rising when Ralph scoots forwards to balance his calves where his feet once laid.

When they finally do get caught up, the blond looks at Jack with big eyes, a little expectant of something. 

“Okay. So… Do you want to order something for dinner? Because we’ve got to get to at least 150 before I close this book.”

“Uh- Yeah. Just order pizzas or something. I gotta call my mother.” Jack makes up an excuse as quickly as he can, knowing that he lacks social skills so badly that he can barely order a pizza without freaking out. Ralph just nods as Jack jerks his head to the other room, giving the boy some space to order the food without Jack intervening. The blond retreats, Jack’s house phone clutched in one of his hands, the other tightly holding the number to the shop.

Jack instead checks his messages to see 4 missed ones from Roger, a rarity since the boy barely messages once.

_sorry i wasn’t in school today 16:34_

_well i was, i was just with simon 16:37_

_my partner for the project… 16:53_

_i’m gonna be with him until it’s over. talk to you in 2 week ig 17:21_

Jack almost drops his phone right then and there. Roger. Simon. Together. For 2 weeks. 

“Jack? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Jack can barely meet Ralph’s eyes without confusion being laced in them.

“I’m okay. Let’s just get back to reading while we wait…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running on a coke and christmas spirit bayyybeeee


	5. V

Ralph finishes ordering the food relatively quickly, returning to his spot next to Jack within minutes. The redhead doesn’t remember when he made the mental switch from Allebach to Ralph, but can’t say he’s entirely upset with the change. It makes them feel equal and as much as Jack hates being equal with people like Ralph, he has no real reason to hate the blond anymore. All of the traits that once made Jack’s head reel, suddenly don’t have the same effect as they used to. He still doesn’t  _ like  _ Allebach, but he’s tolerable now. Like he could get used to being around him. 

“Okay so, we have to get to page… 150? Sounds good?” Jack shrugs his shoulders, trying his hardest to focus on anything but Ralph. He swears the boy has no idea what personal space is. Jack can practically  _ feel  _ his warmth radiating off of him. He can’t tell if he minds the feeling or not. 

They get to page 136 when the food arrives. They’ve both agreed that Scarlett O’Hara may be the worst character to ever grace this Earth. Jack makes a comment on her superiority complex and Ralph snorts, retorting back with the fact that the redhead has one of his own. Instead of starting some sort of heated argument with the blond, Jack just sneers and goes back to the page. 

Of course, once the food arrives Ralph insists he pays. Something about how Jack never has money on him anyways, which isn’t entirely wrong. But the redhead is sure he’d find at least $100 in the couch, his mom tends to stash money there and he’s not exactly broke. However, he lets the other pay just so he doesn’t bug Jack about it. Ralph ordered just cheese pizza, so very plain just like his personality, Jack thinks about adding that to the list of things he hates about Allebach, but is too focused on food to actually go get the list. 

“I’ll get plates or something. Does paper work?” Jack’s backing out of the room backwards, watching as Ralph nods as an answer. The fair boy shoots him a small smile before turning to his phone, which was set on the coffee table and left untouched for a couple hours. Jack just assumes that he’s texting his mother, telling her that he’ll be late or that if he doesn’t come home, Jack murdered him. 

“Um. Bathroom is down the hall. I gotta go to the basement to get plates.” That catches Ralph’s attention and he raises a curious eyebrow. 

“You seriously don’t have a pantry with plates?”

“Well obviously I  _ do, _ ” Jack cocks his head to the side, gesturing towards one of the doors near the kitchen, “But we keep paper products like plates, plastic utensils, and paper towels downstairs in the cabinets. It’s unfinished though so if you’re going to follow at least put your shoes on.” Ralph smiles widely, and Jack knows that he just read the fair boy’s mind. Maybe he didn’t like being left alone, that would be a logical explanation for why he never told the group of girls to leave him the fuck alone, or maybe he just wanted to see what the rest of Jack’s house was like. Either way, he didn’t really care about the boy being there. It was an extra set of hands to grab a paper towel roll anyways. 

The fair boy slides his sneakers on, not even bothering to tie the laces before following Jack down a flight of creaky wooden stairs and into the lower level of his house. Jack flicks a switch, the singular light in the middle of the room turning on. The basement isn't exactly a place he thinks of as comforting, or where he’d want to be for more than 5 minutes. When Jack was little, he used to rush up the stairs to try and stop the dark from eating at him. That didn’t last very long though, because 2 years after he started sprinting up the steps he accepted the beast in the lack of light and even made friends with it. It was a stupid imaginary friend type thing but it helped him throughout some situations. 

He quickly flicks open the cabinet door, grabbing 2 of the plates before handing Ralph a roll of paper towels. The boy gives him a look and Jack shoves it in his chest, Ralph finally getting the signal and taking it from Jack’s hands. 

“That should be it, you wanna get the lights?” Ralph swallows roughly, shaking his head quickly. 

“Jesus fuck Allebach. You scared of the dark?” It’s a tease really, Jack doesn’t mean anything bad by it. But the way Ralph’s face pales makes Jack realize that this isn’t a joke and that the school's Golden Boy is petrified by the dark. 

“Okay you go up first and I’ll follow.” Ralph swiftly climbs the steps, looking like he was on the verge of puking all over the floor. Jack flicks the switch off and follows the boy, uncertain about whether or not he should use this against him. 

  
  
  


/ / /

Neither boy eats much, both of them too preoccupied with the amount of work they have to get done before Ralph can leave. The fair boy had checked the packet while Jack packed up the leftovers and figured out that there were 2 questions that could be answered. Of course, he had wanted Jack’s input on the answers. He didn’t really have much to offer, just corrected one of the name misspellings. Other than that, Ralph did everything. 

“Okay so if Scarlett says that she’d never seen a bad woman before, would you consider it..?” Ralph looks up, eyes meeting Jack’s who snorts and rolls his head back on the arm of the couch. They’d moved there with Ralph sitting on the ground so he could write on the coffee table, which left Jack the whole couch that he’d stretched himself out on. He clasps his hands and sets them on his stomach as he answers the boy’s question.

“It’s gotta be irony, she’s like. The worst character in the entire book.” The scratch of pencil on paper signals that Ralph is writing Jack’s words in the blank, probably phrased much better than what he said. More professional. That was the difference in their personalities as well. Ralph had always just been. Better.

“Okay! That’s it. We’re done for the day.” 

“Oh thank God.” Ralph chuckles, shoving the paper into a folder and then promptly in his bag. He looks at Jack before turning his body to face the door, as if he’s trying to hide what he says. 

“Maybe we could… do this again?” Jack’s head snaps up and he’s on his feet within seconds, eyes wide. He can’t have Ralph over any more. Sure this was fun and he really does enjoy the company of the other when it comes to schoolwork, but he can’t have Ralph over. What if his mom came home? Even worse, what if his  _ dad _ came home? He can’t risk being caught with an Allebach, especially since his family hates them so very much. 

“No.” It’s as shaky as Jack’s ever heard his voice, but still firm. “No. We can’t.” Ralph looks up and into his eyes and suddenly Jack understands.

Jack understands why he’s been pushed away from this boy for so long. He understands why he was taught to hate Ralph Allebach. It’s like the final piece of a puzzle that was finally found after being lost underneath the couch for so long. He was so different from Ralph. All he wanted to do was compare them, and somehow Ralph was better at every single thing. He was shielded from that. He was told that these people were too perfect for their own good, that nobody could ever get close because nobody could ever be perfect enough. Of course. Ralph was the pretty one. The soccer team captain, the blond boy who practically every girl in their school had crushed on before. He had the world handed to him on a silver platter. And what was Jack? A nobody. The boy who became friends with the friendly neighborhood sociopath. The boy who was considered to be below average at everything. The boy who people didn’t bat an eyelash at because they figured he wouldn’t get anywhere. He would just turn out exactly like his father. An unhappy businessman. 

He’s never had people look at him the way they look at Ralph. Their chests swelling with pride, faces lit up with joy whenever he does something as simple as cook a proper dinner. He’s never had the positive reinforcement Ralph gets from his friends. A part of him is jealous. Jack is jealous of Ralph Allebach. Because all his life, Jack has had to work for even the tiniest sliver of respect. For a ‘good job’ muttered under breath as the teacher tries to hide the kids' test scores from each other. That was given to Ralph by default. He was perfect in the eyes of society. He was what everyone wanted to be. And it made Jack sick to his stomach. 

“What do you mean no?” God, even his voice makes the sirens Jack’s body flare. He never thought about it like this before. But now, rage flows through his veins just as blood does, mixing together in a sweet concoction that can only lead to something so horribly bad Jack will never want to leave his house again. But he doesn’t stop himself before the words spew out. He’s not sure if he could’ve stopped this.

“I mean no. Our families don’t get along and I can’t have them seeing you!” 

“Oh so you’re gonna follow what our families set in place for us?? Because you NEVER follow the rules. So what’s so special about now?!?” Ralph’s on his feet now too, voice raising with every word. They’re both seconds away from blowing, it’s just a matter of who pulled the pin first. 

“Maybe I don’t follow rules because I’m trying my hardest NOT to be like YOU. I don’t want to be the person someone worships for no reason other than their family!” It’s a mistake. The minute the words leave his mouth, the air in the room changes. It was comfortable before, like the air Jack has with some of his other buddies. The ones who will offer him a smoke because they know he likes the scent. It was something both of them could relax in. Could find themselves being like they were around people they didn’t hate. Now, it was prickling. Nothing was more dangerous than the look on Ralph’s face and the tone of voice he chose. He wasn’t shouting. He was barely raising his voice. But he was definitely horribly angry, the venom seeping into his words. It almost made Jack flinch. 

“You. Know.  _ Nothing. _ About. Me.” It’s said through gritted teeth. Ralph is trying his hardest to draw a line between them. He doesn’t want to explode in front of Jack, so instead he’s using words as a warning. One that the redhead ignores just to get the satisfaction of words that leave a sting. 

“I know that you’re perfect. I know that the entire school worships you because you use daddy’s money. I know that you’ve never  _ ever  _ had to work for A THING. Because everything that would’ve been a struggle, everything that NORMAL PEOPLE have trouble with, was given to you without doing anything!” Ralph blinks, long and hard. When he opens his eyes, they’re cold, full of pure hatred. It mimics looks Jack has seen Roger give people he really despises. 

“I’m leaving. And I’m not coming back. Don’t even bother with the project. I don’t ever want to talk to you again.” And suddenly Jack’s alone, in a low lit house, almost an entire pizza leftover in his fridge. And just like that, just as quick as it began, Jack feels ill. But this time, he feels sick because of what he said. He knew he was a monster, a savage, a beast. 

Jack ends up throwing up any food he ate earlier. He wanted to turn all the mirrors around so he wouldn’t have to face himself, but he doesn’t have the energy to do it. All he can do is stare up at his ceiling, the remnants of anger still bubbling under his skin, now mixed with exhaustion. He knows he’s going to wake up at 1 am and have nothing to do but run the anger off, it happened every time he argued with Roger. But for now, he was so tired all he could do was close his eyes and hope sleep came easy. 

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


Just like he thought, the redhead's eyes open at 1:34 am. He’s starving, but more importantly his muscles itch for the burn of a run. All he can do is oblige and hope it wipes the events of last night from existence entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are wonky for this right now- I’m so sorry lmao


	6. VI

Jack forces himself out of bed, muscles unable to remain still any longer. If he stays still, he thinks. And if he thinks, he ends up replaying the earlier events. When he does that, his anger only grows and will usually lead to a hole in the wall and bloody knuckles. Something that he doesn’t quite want or need as of right now. 

So he starts to run. He has to know all the nooks and crannies of the neighborhood by now, determining houses by the low glow of light that comes from the TV, or the cat that looms outside of a particularly big house on the corner. He knows the route to Roger’s house so well he’s sure he could run it with his eyes closed. Although, probably not the best idea because sometimes there are drunks out and about, driving along the curb more than the streets. He usually doesn’t worry about them, only pushes his body to go faster so if they do end up on the concrete, it’s far behind Jack. It’s not like he minds going faster, he actually craves the burning sensation in his legs, begging to just slow down and take a break. But he won’t let himself stop, he won’t even let himself slow down. Most times he speeds up. Anything to clear his mind. Anything to let his restless thoughts fade into the cold air behind him. In hindsight, taking a run in the middle of January isn’t a great idea. Between the thin layer of slush that covers the ground and the ice in unexpected areas, Jack can’t help but be shocked he hasn’t cracked his skull open yet. 

As he runs by Roger’s house, he notices a figure out on the porch. It’s none other than the boy himself, face lit up by the end of a burning cigarette. There’s someone with him, a smaller boy who’s hunched over the railing, face barely visible in the low light. He has to be Simon, it’s the only other person Jack’s ever heard Roger talk about without poison in his voice. Roger raises 2 fingers as a greeting, Simon looks up at Jack, a smile on his face as the boy goes by. The boy whispers something to Jack’s friend, making a smirk spread across his face before he blows the smoke into his face. The last thing he hears is Simon laughing and something that sounds like a slap. Jack can’t help but give props to Simon for doing something as bold as hitting Roger. Most people were too afraid to even talk to him. 

Jack gets back home at around 2 am, body finally worn out. All he could do now was hope sleep came as easy as the run did. 

  
  


/ / /

  
  


2 weeks pass and that’s what it takes for half of the students body to notice the drastic changes Jack and Ralph have gone through. Allebach, he mentally corrects himself. They quickly returned to a last name basis after the fight, even Allebach refusing to call Jack by his first name. 

Unlike Jack, who has been wrecked physically, Allebach has clearly plummeted mentally. He’s barely seen lingering in the halls anymore, instead just going to his classes as quickly as possible and avoiding conversation with any of his soccer friends. Whenever Jack sees him, Simon and the other kid - Patrick? Percy? Jack can’t remember - are the only ones with him. Preston is usually comforting him, or doing something like it, and shooting Jack dirty looks. Simon keeps his distance, only having talked to Jack once since he saw him on the run, telling him that Roger was looking for him. He thanks the tan boy and doesn’t talk to him again. 

His usual group of girls are fussing over him, complaining about how his hair is messy and straightening it themselves. He just looks mentally drained. 

Jack, on the other hand, has been suffering in a similar but very different way. He keeps waking up at 2 in the morning, unable to go back to sleep. Jack blames it on the stress of a fight and his anger that boils every time he sees the blond boy. But deep down, something doesn’t feel right about this entire situation. 

He acts like he doesn’t hear the whispers talking about how the dark circles under his eyes have become more prominent and how he sits alone at lunch, barely eating at all. Something just won’t let him do things that he _knows_ he needs to do. He can feel the eyes on him, prickling in his skin. He’s sure they all hate him because they’re like sheep, following the school's Golden Boy. Every time he passes the mirror, it’s like a ghost of who he thinks he is. Between sunken in cheeks and ruffled hair, he’s never looked so distressed. He doesn’t even feel the kind of upset he appears to look, just anger that burns like an underage teens first drink of liquor. However, between the sudden increase in sloppy clothing that he didn’t even know existed before now and time spent alone, he's driving himself crazy. Allebach never made him feel accepted or even made him feel as though they were friends, but the absence of the boy he called an enemy for so long from his life entirely is like a punch to the jaw. Jack liked it better when they were fighting. And he can’t tell if Allebach feels the same. Two people with pride so strong that they would do anything to uphold it can never be a good match. Especially during a fight. Jack and Allebach are slowly living to learn this fact. 

It gets to the point where Jack just doesn’t show up to school for 3 days, spending all of his time relishing in the burn a cigarette gives his lungs and how the smoke dances around the sky. He doesn’t go near any other things that could get him arrested. Alcohol has dirty memories associated with it and drugs are too uncommon around the area he lives in. He would much rather sit there, killing himself faster, than go to school where everything is so mind numbingly boring. He’s not sure he can make it through another day of useless voice droning on and on. Another day of sitting alone in a packed cafeteria, not eating but instead trying to hold back the urge to punch a wall. It’s a torturous routine. One that burns his anger like fire to a match. 

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


“Mister Allebach, Mister Merridew?” Both boys look up at their teacher when her voice pierces the otherwise silent room. “Please see me after class.” And just with those words, Jack can hear his heartbeat on his ears. He feels like a little kid who just got caught telling a huge lie. He knows that this is about the lack of communication between him and Allebach. It’s really no secret to anyone anymore. They’re 3 weeks into a 6 week project and they only grew as distant as they can be. 

Neither of them speak, just as they spend every class since the fight. Only this time, once the bell for dismissal rings, the teacher beckons them over, eyes following their moves. 

“This is my planning period so this can and will take as long as it needs to. What has happened between you? I expected banter and possible even physical fights from you two but never the silent treatment.” Allebach looks up at her then over to Jack, ocean blue eyes glancing everywhere but his face. It’s the blond who speaks first. 

“I’m sorry ma’am. Ja- Merridew and I just… Have some issues that we’re trying to resolve as of right now. I promise all will be as back to normal as it can be in a week or two.” The fair boy looks like he’s 2 seconds from getting on his knees and begging the teacher to just leave them be and let them get on with their lives and Jack isn’t far from it either. However, if he does that he’s going to be suspected of being desperate to leave Allebach. And for some reason, standing his ground is better than admitting that. 

“Listen Lady. Allebach and I have never gotten along. I don’t know why you think we’re going to do it now because you made us partners in a silly little project. Because news flash! There’s nothing special about you and he’s still the narcissistic _asshat_ he's always been!” 

“Mister Merridew I suggest you watch your language before I send you down to the principal's office. We both know you can’t go again. For the safety of your graduation.” And Jack’s blood goes cold in his veins. So many words are building on his tongue, shoving through the barrier he’s built. But even though he has so much to say, not one sentence actually spills out of his mouth. He just stands there, anger slowly rising in his throat. It’s like he’s choking on his own malice. Allebach must’ve sensed the same change in air that happened that fateful night because he springs into action immediately. When Jack sees the boy's mouth open, he half expects him to defend the teacher. But what actually comes out is almost the opposite. 

“Jack, she didn’t mean it. Just watch your language because she’s a respected individual. And Ma’am. For the love of God if you don’t want a teenage boy knocking out your two front teeth keep your mouth _shut_ next time.” The teacher nods slowly, straightening papers on his desk. 

“Shut the fuck up Allebach. And you. You know nothing about me. You know nothing about what I need to do. You clearly only care about me passing your stupid class. And guess what? I don’t care. Since when did you care about my performance before now!” With the last sentence Jack slams his hand a little too roughly on the wooden desk, the impact leaving a sting in his skin. However, the anger coursing through his body is enough to numb any pain that he might’ve felt from the violent motion. The teacher looks taken aback, holding herself as if Jack was about to strike her. Even the redhead isn’t that stupid though. If he laid hands on a teacher, he’d be dead meat by dawn. On the other hand, Allebach looks just as livid as he was on that day. Jack wants to forget that day so badly but the rage from this moment and the past fight have mixed together in his blood and now he’s just a ticking bomb. A stick of dynamite waiting to explode.

“Jack. Back off of her. That was so unnecessary. Throwing a tantrum like a child isn’t going to help _anything_. In fact, you’re making it worse. I don’t know what I expected though.” 

“Oh fuck off you prick.” 

It’s so quick that the teacher barely has time to gasp in shock. Allebach body slams Jack, sending him flying to the ground. This moment reminds the redhead of previous fights a little too well. Ones that always ended in an embarrassingly quick loss against the soccer player standing above him. Two weeks ago they were just like this. Two weeks ago they hated each other and were ready to go neck in neck. Two weeks ago, Jack could’ve sworn he wanted a friendship with this boy. One of them ruined it. And the redhead knew it wasn’t Ralph. It could never be Ralph. 

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter to me anyways. This school, this project. None of it matters because I’m just going to fail anyways. It’s what I was fucking born to do.” And Jack’s on his feet before either of them can give him pity, rushing out of the school like he was the one who landed the first hit. It’s one of the only times anger makes him retreat.

  
  


/ / /

  
  


Jack gets home and immediately takes a shower in an attempt to wash the day's events off of his body. He scrubs at his skin until it’s raw, the normally pale colour now bright red and burning. The boy doesn’t even bother putting proper clothing on, just throwing sweatpants over his body and socks on his feet and leaving his shirt inside. He finds himself on the edge of the balcony, burning through cigarettes like he always does. The cold air is biting at his skin, making him shake but nothing really comprehends. Then, and only then, once he's all by himself and finally feeling the weight of Allebach’s hatred for him, does he hang his head and cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are coming out whenever I feel, I’m so sorry lmaooo. Anyways I hope you enjoyed the small Roger and Simon cameo, to let you know they still exist


	7. VII

Jack falls asleep that night quite easily seeing as he’s struggled with it for weeks on end. However, once sleep comes, sleep doesn't stay. He’s not sure what comes over him that night, maybe his brain thinks it’s funny to pull a practical joke on him. For the first time since he was 8 years old, Jack has a nightmare. And not the kind you wake up from and go ‘that was odd’ roll over, and fall back asleep. No, this was the kind of nightmare that made him shake before he woke up. That made him feel like he was going to vomit. 

All he could see was Allebach standing above him, knuckles smeared with blood. With his blood. Allebach looked just as horrified as Jack felt, face twisted with shock as he looked down at the red splattered across his fingers. The blond stood back and when Jack looked back up, he was crying. Sobbing violently and whispering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over until the words became jumbled and he could barely get them out. Jack tried to move but he couldn’t, he just stood there watching as the boy in front of him crumple to the ground, curled up in a fetal position. His hands wouldn’t reach out and his mouth wouldn’t open. All he did was watch. Tears weren’t even falling down his cheeks. The person he told himself he hated, the boy who ruined everything Jack could’ve had by simply existing was now a part of his nightmares. Was now possibly the worst nightmare he’d ever had. 

Jack woke up violently, the urge to vomit hitting him like a brick wall. He hadn’t eaten the night prior, so when he went to puke, nothing happened except a rough dry heave. That’s when everything became crystal clear. He knew he had to fix this issue between him and Allebach, especially since this was beginning to affect his health in the way that it was. So despite his better judgement, he shot the boy a text.

_allebach. can we talk? 1:47 am_

_What. I don’t really want to talk to you. 1:48 am_

_allebach i cant come in tomorrow, i’m sick 1:48 am_

_What? 1:49 am_

_Jack? 2:01 am_

_Fuck. 3:26 am_

  
  


/ / /

  
  


Jack wakes up at 9 am to his mother standing over him, a thermometer in her hand and a frown on her face. 

“You’re not running a temperature, you’ve got no symptoms of any sort of illness, and yet you puke in the bathroom this morning.” She purses her lips and Jack can barely breathe in her presence. She’s never cared about him this much. “I’ll keep you home but I think you’ve been stressing yourself too much. I have work in an hour, take care of yourself.” Jack groans in response, flipping back over. He doesn’t really want to move, seeing as he doesn’t remember getting up at all to puke a second time. Instead of forcing him up and dragging him to school, like she normally does in situations like these, Jack’s mother lays a small kiss on his cheek. There’s probably a red lipstick stain on his cheek but between the gentle gesture from a woman who’s never around and the soft ruffle of his hair, Jack doesn’t really remember why he barely lets her touch him. But the final whisper has enough passive aggression for him to recall why. 

“I hope you take this time to fix the reason why the school called me today.” 

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


It’s 2 pm when Jack has the craziest thought that may have ever crossed his brain. He spent the entire day doing nothing but taking care of himself, just as his mother suggested. He finally eats a proper meal, spends some time doing breathing exercises his mother forces him to that he learned in therapy all those years ago, and just gives himself time to relax. His mother leaves out an address on a slip of paper that he can only assume is Ralph’s, but he forgets about it by the time lunch rolls around. 

Once the grandfather clock in the front hall strikes 2 pm, Jack thinks about grabbing his sneakers and sprinting to Ralph’s house to fix the whole thing face to face. He doesn’t know what comes over him to think that, he’s been wallowing in anger and regret because of it, but it hasn’t been of importance to him until now. Nothing about Allebach has been important. Not until he finds himself lying on the couch, staring at the list of things he hates about the boy that he made what feels like 100 years ago. He can’t bring himself to scrawl anything onto the page but his mind is running a million miles per hour. So instead, he pulls out another sheet of paper and writes his explanations. It’s not ever going to see the light of day again, but it’s all Jack can think of doing in the moment. 

_I hate his stupid friends. I hate how they circle around him like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. I hate how Simon and Pietro believe that Ralph is the answer to all their problems. He’s not the answer, he’s the problem._

_I hate how his glasses are dorkishly big for his face. I hate how the size makes him look even better than he already does. Not that Allebach looks good, it’s just that the glasses enhance his appearance._

_I hate how he gets so much attention when he clearly hates it. Even a blind man can see how uncomfortable Allebach is when those asshats start stroking his hair or rubbing their thumbs along his bicep. It doesn’t take much to see why he’s uncomfortable either, the girls are so creepy. Maybe if they didn’t surround him like he was their god, they’d actually have a chance. Maybe if they had more of my attitude. Wait… No scratch that last sentence. I don’t think Allebach and I are compatible. We never have been and we never will be._

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


At the time 4 pm rolls around, the keys hanging on the hook are mocking Jack. They sit there on the old holder, reminding him that his own stubbornness is going to be the death of his last year at high school. The fact that he can’t even push himself up off the couch and jog to Allebach’s house to make amends is going to be the exact reason he fails English and subsequently fails his final year. If you told him the same scenario last year, he would’ve laughed and said that he’d rather flunk out of school than have to spend time with Allebach, let alone apologize for his actions. But now, with college in his grasp, with the weight of the fight giving him headaches because of what he could’ve done differently to make things right, he’s not sure that he has another option. It’s as plain as day. It’s either apologize and try to make things right for the sake of the project or do it alone and end up with half of the answers being marked incorrect. 

Jack pushes himself off the couch at 4:28 pm, a time that he's slowly coming to hate more than anything. However, he can’t exactly ignore his issues forever and he decides it’s better to face them head on than not at all. This is it. 4:28 pm on a Wednesday. 4:28 pm with a soft rain coming down that's like slush from the sky because of the chill in the air. 4:28 pm is the time that Jack Merridew may never ever forget. He picks up his sneakers, grabs his coat, and takes the address off of its lonely place on the counter. Every choice in his life led to this moment. He was going to see Allebach a day after he swore he never wanted to think about the blond ever again. And he would never admit it, but he was terrified. 

  
  


/ / /

  
  


The path to the fair boy’s house is an all too familiar one. Jack didn’t realize it when he read the address the first time, but Ralph lives in the same neighborhood as Roger. He ends up shooting Ralph a text when he’s 10 minutes away, rain having soaked so far into his hoodie that it’s plastering to his skin. The chill of the rain is making him shiver, and he can’t feel his fingertips anymore. 

_hey ralph. can i stop by? 4:33 pm_

_I’m sorry, What? 4:33 pm_

_Jack it’s pouring out, if you seriously walked to my house I’m going to kill you. 4:34 pm_

_oops… 4:35 pm_

Jack wants to laugh at the threat in Ralph’s message. He knows the boy can’t hurt him as much as he says he can. Not without getting in serious trouble or having Jack fight back. Either one probably isn’t ideal for the blond boy. 

Jack can’t help but think about Ralph as he’s taking the walk to his house. It would be next to impossible for his brain to ignore making up situations that could happen between him and the boy. What if Ralph ignored him? What if Ralph turned him away and made him go back? More importantly, what if Ralph let him in. What would happen then? Maybe they’d fix things, set everything back to normal and finish the project together just so they can get the grade. Then they’d go back to normal. Jack ignoring Ralph and the fair boy going back to being the soccer star of their school and being given everything he ever wished for.

Or maybe, they’d be something more. Maybe they’d be friends. Perhaps once this whole thing ends, Jack and Ralph may be closer than they ever found themselves. Jack would show up to every one of Ralph’s soccer games and the fair boy would join the redhead on jogs, or if he could convince him during the summer months, Ralph would tag along whenever Jack went to the skate park. Maybe the redhead would even teach him how to balance on a skateboard. 

However, it’s all just a fantasy in Jack’s head. For as long as he can remember he’s craved being friends with Ralph. He’s craved the feeling of people looking up at him like he was the light in their galaxy. All Jack has been trying to do for his entire life is make up for the lack of love. For once in his life he wants to be the brightest star in someone’s galaxy. 

  
  
  


/ / / 

  
  


Jack arrives at Ralph’s house as quickly as he can, the rain slowly getting harder to the point where he’s totally soaked. He regrets choosing to wear his sneakers, seeing as the rain seeped through into his socks, but he can’t change that now. 

Ralph lives in a decent sized house. It matches Roger’s fairly well and if Jack’s eyes don’t deceive him, there’s a pool in the backyard. It’s lit by a yellow light from the inside, making the entire house just seem cozy. Or maybe that’s because the redhead just wants to get out of the rain. Either way, he would kill to switch houses with Ralph in this particular moment.

Jack barely gets to knock on the door before a very frustrated Ralph swings the wood open and the freckled boy’s face is covered with one of the softest towels he’s ever felt. 

“You’re an absolute idiot. A moron. I can’t _believe_ you walked here in the middle of a rainstorm. You could’ve gotten sick! You were already sick earlier, are you aiming to just get every disease known to man? We could’ve made amends any other day. You could’ve driven here!” While Ralph is going off on Jack, he pulls the boy in the house, slams the door, and begins to dry the redhead’s hair like a mother would do to their child. Jack can do it by himself, but he’s too petrified of even asking to take over because of how fast Ralph is talking and how much he sounds like a seriously pissed off mother. 

“Take off your jacket. I’ll go find you more towels and turn the fireplace on. Your shoes can go by the door.” And suddenly Jack is alone in the fair boy’s front hall. But even though there’s no one around, something about it feels like Jack is with a friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao Mom Ralph is best Ralph


	8. VIII

Ralph gets Jack wrapped up in a blanket the fair boy deemed ‘irrelevant’ and sits him in front of the fire. He also took the clothing Jack could take off without the whole situation being horribly awkward, like his shirt and hoodie, and threw them in the dryer so that they would dry as quickly as possible. The redhead can’t help but feel like Ralph either doesn’t want him here or really doesn’t want him to leave. He can’t quite pinpoint which one it is. 

Ralph curls up on the couch right behind the fireplace, eyes flickering over to meet Jack’s every now and then. He’s reading  _ Gone With the Wind _ , his glasses pushed as far up the bridge of his nose as they will go. Not only that, he made himself and Jack a cup of green tea in order to warm them up. Every so often the fair boy will reach over and take a sip and that’s when their eyes meet. Other than that, there's no interactions between the two of them. Jack can already sense the aggression in every one of Ralph’s movements, so he’s not entirely sure that this was one of his better ideas. 

“You know… My dad warned me about you.” Ralph pauses to grab his mug, but doesn’t drink anything. He just holds it close as he continues. “I came home the day we got assigned partners, ranting about how I got the worst student in class for my book project. He told me, “Don’t you get involved with that Merridew boy. He’ll only be trouble for you.” And I listened to him. The fight was fresh and I wanted a way out. So I ignored you. It got to the point where my mental health was suffering because I kept blaming myself for aggravating you. For letting myself get so heated I felt the need to respond. Eventually, my friends began to notice the sharp decline in my mental state. They offered their own ways out of it once I explained the situation. I tried taking Simon’s advice, which was to wait for you to try and talk to me because I had no idea what you were feeling. I had no idea how mad you were with me and the best way was to let you figure it out, then come to me. Peter told me that you were never going to change. That you were still the little boy who gave him the nickname ‘Piggy.’ I chose to listen to Peter. I convinced myself you had no room for change and you would always be the problem kid. But 2 weeks rolled around and I felt hollow. I felt like if I didn’t apologize to you at some point soon I would break down and find myself crawling back to you, begging for forgiveness. Jack, I never wanted it to turn into this. I never wanted to make you hate me. But you  _ have _ to take responsibility for your actions. Before it’s too late and there’s no possibility of being forgiven.” 

Jack looks up at Ralph, who’s toying with the end of the teabag, eyes focused on the redhead and only the redhead. In all his time of knowing Ralph, in all the motivational speeches he heard the blond give to his soccer team, in all the end of the year speeches he’d given to their class talking about new journeys and amazing opportunities, Jack has never heard Ralph sound so sincere. And so pissed off at the same time. 

“I know… But at this point I don’t think I can…” 

“Okay. Fine. It may be too late.” Ralph purses his lips, setting the mug back down on the end table. “But we’ll establish rules. Rules you have to follow because if you don’t we’ll never finish this project and you’ll most certainly never graduate. Unfortunately I can’t watch you do that. Because that means I won’t be able to get into my dream school. And that means more to me than watching my old enemy burn.” Ralph gets up from his place on the couch, blanket that was wrapped around his body falling onto the wooden floor. He raises his arms above his head to stretch, subsequently causing his shirt to lift out of its place. Even if it’s for a split second, Jack gets a glimpse of his abdomen and suddenly realizes why every girl in their school was, or still is, obsessed with him. It’s almost intimidating how muscular the boy is. Match that with the fact that his skin is perpetually tan, which only appears to enhance the muscle lines, Jack can’t help but stare. Ralph puts his arms back down, his shirt following, and moves across the room, his socks muffling the footsteps. He makes it halfway to the kitchen before he turns around. 

“Do you want a physical piece of paper? Or a text?”

“Uh. Paper works.” Ralph gives him a wicked grin, spinning on his heel and practically running into his kitchen. Jack shivers now that the fair boy is gone. He wraps the blanket around him a little tighter, praying for the ding of the dryer so he’s not half exposed to Ralph. 

Ralph returns with more pens than Jack has ever owned and a sheet of what looks like cardstock. “Okay! Don’t lose this. And your stuff should be dry soon. I can drop you off because no way in hell are you walking it again.” Jack just nods as the boy sits back in his previous place, the supplies now sprawled out on the end table. 

It doesn’t take them long to establish a list of rules. It’s mainly Ralph doing the talking, but every so often Jack interjects with something that makes the fair boy chew on his bottom lip. He ends up reviewing them with Jack, as if he wasn’t sure the redhead was listening the first time around. 

“Okay. 7 rules. 3 weeks left. We can do this.” Jack nods and Ralph opens his mouth once more, voice filling the room. “Rule 1, no fighting. Physically or verbally, we cannot cause another avalanche. Rule 2, we’ll meet up whenever possible to read together because of your dyslexia.”

“What?! How did you know I was dyslexic-?” Ralph smiles at Jack, shooting him a wink that makes Jack’s stomach flutter more than he’d like to admit. He blames it on the fact that he’s sick and not on the action itself.

“It was a lucky guess I s’pose. Now. Rule 3. When we’re in class, we have to work together. Unfortunately the teacher is onto us and I really don’t need any more fights with her. Rule 4, none of my soccer teammates will even get close enough as to  _ touch  _ you or I will not hesitate to knock their teeth out.” The same feeling strikes Jack’s stomach as the anger seeps into Ralph's voice. He inhales shakily before letting the fair boy finish the list. 

“Rule 5, you said to add that we openly can be around each other without having to fake hatred to convince the school so I put that one down. 6 is that we have to respect each other’s boundaries. Finally, rule 7 is that no matter how much we don’t get along, we have to finish this project to secure our futures. After that, we can go back to being dicks.” Jack snorts in response, eyes meeting Ralph’s. It happens for a split second. Jack doesn’t even know if it really happened or if his mind is making things up. But he swears the fair boy’s eyes flicker over his body. It could be judgemental but with the smile that breaks out across his face directly after, something tells Jack it wasn’t. 

No words are spoken but Ralph and Jack have created some sort of comfortable tension between them that makes any words unnecessary. However, it still set Jack on edge, like Ralph could pounce and destroy him in 3 seconds flat. It wouldn’t even be a competition. 

“I, um. I should get going.” Jack shoulders the blanket off, regretting the action as soon as he does it because the chill of the air hits him like a punch to the gut. He almost winces from it, but keeps a straight face and looks to Ralph to go get his sweatshirt and his shirt. Ralph has since moved to his feet and is staring at Jack with a dumbfounded look on his face. Like there’s something about the redhead he didn’t know before and just figured it out. Although that would be highly unlikely, they already knew so much about each other. And it wasn’t like Ralph was seeing anything new, not that he’d be stripped of words for that. They’d been in countless locker rooms together anyways. 

“You um… Have a scar?” Jack glances down, although he knows exactly what Ralph has seen. There’s a long scar on his ribcage that his father gave him. It was an accident and he knows that, but it’s still a painful memory. So instead he just smiles at the fair boy and covers the mark as best as possible. He doesn’t see why he can’t tell the truth to Ralph, he just doesn’t like reliving it.

“Yeah. I got it when I was… 9 or 10. It was a simple accident. Someone tried to teach me how to shoot a bow. They got frustrated and shot an arrow at a target. My dumbass moved towards the target and got scratched pretty bad. I was told it would heal over and I’d look normal again. Can’t say that happened.” Jack shoots Ralph another smile before raising an eyebrow, signaling that he does in fact need his shirt before going anywhere. 

“Oh right.” Ralph almost looks sad. “Can I…?” Jack sighs, knowing exactly what the fair boy is thinking. Between the mix of the fire, the fact that Jack just  _ knows  _ Ralph is gonna be pissed out of his mind tomorrow, and the atmosphere that’s so different than what they normally have, he lifts his arms up. And that’s all it takes for Ralph to be over there in an instant, tracing the scar with his fingers. 

“You’ve got a lot of these, don’t you?”

“Yeah. When you’re friends with the friendly neighborhood sociopath it tends to lead to a lot of bad decisions that result in stitches.” Ralph hums in response, still staring at the mark in Jack’s skin. 

“You don’t seem to be… too bothered by it. Which is good. They add character. Shows that you’re not some sort of… default character.”

“Like you?”

“I have scars. You just never get close enough to see them without a fist being swung at your face.”

“Oh really?” Jack’s almost interested in what the fair boy is saying, but keeps his tone steady so it doesn’t come across that way. 

“Yeah. I tried to eat a knife, cut my lip. In my defense I was 4 and left unsupervised.” Jack snorts, watching as Ralph stands up to his full height again, glancing around the room. And now that he's pointed it out, Jack can see the scar that rests on his bottom lip. In fact, it’s all Jack can look at. 

“Well. I’ll go get your shirt and the car keys. You wait here.”

  
  


/ / /

  
  


Ralph drives Jack home, the fair boy’s annoyance with the redhead seeming to have returned. It’s not a long drive, but it’s long enough for the freckled boy to be uncomfy in the car with his partner. Ralph gives him a passive aggressive wave when he drops him off and Jack can’t help but wonder why the boy’s emotions swing around so often. He’s usually decent at reading people, but Ralph has always been someone that just makes his head hurt when he thinks about what the fair boy could possibly be feeling. So instead, he walks into the house he knows is going to be empty, preparing to spend another night alone.

“So… You’ve gotten comfy with Allebach, haven't you?”

Roger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m making an update schedule. No telling the exact dates but it’s gonna be Nicotine update, Not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things update, then oneshots!! 💛💛💛
> 
> Also time for Roger to be dicc


	9. IX

Roger is standing right in the middle of his kitchen, the only thing lighting up his face being the lights underneath the birch wooden cabinets. Jack almost jumps out of his skin when the pale boy speaks, face burning up despite not feeling any sort of way about Ralph. Not like that at least. Perhaps he considers Ralph a friend now, but anything other than that seems so out there that his reeling mind can barely grasp the concept. 

“I already told you. I’ve been pining after Harmony. I don’t know why you think Allebach would be getting in the way of that. ‘Specially since we’re not exactly on good terms. With the whole project and casual face punching.”

“Yeah well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied to me about people you’ve caught a fancy for.” Roger steps forwards, Jack tensing his body like the raven haired boy is about to land a swift punch on his jaw. “Although, I didn’t come to pester you about whether you’re in the deep end for your childhood rival. Perhaps that’s a conversation for a later date. In fact, I came here to do the opposite.” Jack raises an eyebrow, and Roger sighs as if the redhead is truly an idiot. “Allebach. He’s a plague and we both know it. You _know_ about how he treats people. He takes their time and uses them until they become insignificant. Then he drops them on the curb like yesterday’s rubbish. He’s a manipulator and a fraud.”

“Oh and we’re both above manipulation? C’mon Rog you’re not an idiot. We make Allebach look like a saint.” And Roger’s expression shifts quicker than Jack can comprehend. He knows the freckled boy isn’t wrong. Especially when they were younger. Jack used to initiate so many fights with Allebach that it was almost concerning. The school had to step in once, shoving the two boys - whose hatred for each other boiled under their skin like water on a stove - into a cramped room together, forcing apologies out of them. The fair boy had clenched his fists by his side, gaze like fire in an attempt to burn Jack. The atmosphere between them wasn't ever the same, Jack mainly targeting the more hopeless of the Golden Boy’s friends. Specifically the twins and Piggy. Piggy couldn’t really run and relied on the fair boy to do the fighting. It made him an easy target, especially when Jack was hanging out with Roger. The twins could land a couple punches, but for the most part were overpowered to the point where they just accepted defeat and retreated into the dark woods, crying out as they were chased far away from home. 

Jack hates Allebach and Allebach hates Jack. It should be so simple. They shouldn’t need to have to question whether they actually despise each other. Allebach views him as a tyrant, a savage, a sociopath. Whatever traits one would consider to be negative, Ralph associates it with Jack. And Allebach himself is a perfect know-it-all who’s never had to work for anything. He’s stuck up, obnoxious, and spoiled. And Jack has known this since the boy got him kicked off of the soccer team, since the boy had tried his hardest to be better than Jack at everything. 

But something in Jack told him that he didn’t really hate Ralph. He was jealous, and holding a silly childhood grudge. That was a fact and it just made his blood boil even more. Roger isn’t an idiot. He has his eyes on Jack, trying to tell what the redhead’s next move will be. So that he can act accordingly and throw some punches or ignore the scene entirely. 

“Are you defending him? Because it sure as hell sounds like you are.” Roger lights a cigarette Jack didn’t even see him pull out, taking a long drag before finishing his thoughts. “If you’re going to sit here and defend Allebach, if you’re going to tell me that the boy you've hated since you were 12 isn’t a horrible person, then I think he’s already using his manipulation tactics on you. I don’t really care about whether you are or aren’t in love with the school’s Golden Boy. That’s for you to deal with, not me. It becomes my problem when you don’t realize what he’s doing. I’m just warning you so when he crushes you in his palm, you don’t come crawling back to me. I’ll take you back but I won’t defend you.” Jack knows if he lets Roger stay, the boy will either beat his ass or everything will go back to normal. And Jack needs normal. He craves it like he craves water or food when he wakes up in the morning. Normal is the only way he doesn’t turn into the person he’s sworn off of being. 

“Do you wanna stay the night? ‘S not like my parents are ever around anyways.” Roger blows smoke away from Jack’s general direction, a smile breaking out on his face. It’s a mischievous expression, Jack really cannot remember the last time Roger Volkov actually smiled genuinely, but it’s enough for the redhead to know that the answer is yes. 

“Oh boy Jack-y, do I have a story for you.”

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


Roger ends up telling him about Simon, and how the tan boy warned him first about Ralph’s antics. He had been worried about Jack and expressed his feelings to Roger, who said something along the lines of ‘I’ll warn him but he’s an impulsive piece of trash, no telling what he’ll do.’ He’s not wrong, Jack did have a reputation for acting impulsively and it’s not exactly a good thing. It’s certainly gotten him in more trouble than out of it. Jack just sits on the old couch, mind going too fast to actually listen and process the words spewing out of Roger’s mouth. At some point past 1 am, he falls into a deep sleep, the other boy still rambling on sluggishly about how much he hates the fair boy. 

Once he wakes, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes in an attempt to remember what happened last night. Roger is still sleeping on the wooden floor next to the couch, black hoodie having hiked up his stomach, exposing pale skin. Jack groans to himself, flipping from his back to his side, praying that sleep would hit his body like a bus again. He knew he was exhausted, muscles tired from the late night run and the fact that he spent some of yesterday puking up his guts. If he did it again, he wouldn’t have to go to school and that was extraordinarily appealing to him. No Ralph, no english teacher, no english  _ class. _ But his partner might have his head for it so the best he can do is pretend like he didn’t wake up in the first place. 

“Fuck…” The raspy words come from next to him and Jack rolls back over, echoing the curse. Both boys are laying on their backs, staring up at the cracked ceiling that Jack can’t believe his parents haven’t had someone redo. Cigarette butts litter the floor from last night, Jack burning through more when he was with Roger than he ever did alone. They never actually touched his lips, although breathing in the smoke is just as dangerous and he knows it. Roger shifts, pulling his hoodie down his stomach. Another groan leaves the raven haired boy’s lips as he forces himself up and off the floor. 

“I gotta run home and change. See you at school.” 

“See ya.”

  
  


/ / /

  
  


When Jack enters the school building, having showered and changed because he couldn’t fall back asleep once Roger woke and left, he seems to have eyes on him. Every time he looks around, a student is looking away from him quickly or turning to whisper to their friends. He can’t imagine Ralph told anyone about the fight with the teacher, but he wouldn’t put it past the fair boy the more he thinks about it. 

Roger is with Simon as he usually is, writing against the locker as the smaller boy laughs, the sound so delicate Jack wonders why someone like him would want to be with someone like Roger. 

“Oh good morning Jack! Your mother stopped by yesterday and pulled Ralph out of class. The school is buzzing with curiosity over what she might’ve said. Ralph himself refuses to speak and, in fact, I haven’t seen him yet today.” Jack wants to bash his head into the locker Roger’s leaning against. Of course his mother came to talk to the fair boy. Of course she tried to right one of Jack’s many wrongs. For some reason, the woman couldn't just leave the bad things Jack does alone and accept that he’s not the boy she thinks he is. 

“Well that’s just fucktastic. Anyways. I have unfinished business with a certain lass. I’ll catch you guys later?” And he swears he imagines it, but as he turns around to leave the other two, Roger jerks his head to the bathroom door and Simon gives the boy a huge smile. The freckled boy dismisses it, because he’s never been horribly observant and it all could really be his fucked up brain. 

He finds Harmony in the library, all alone as she usually is. It’s really no secret that she’s liked by 90% of the male population. Between freckled cheeks that match Jack’s, tan skin that matches her green and gold eyes perfectly. The way her smile makes the marks in her face dance, how her laugh rings out in a place and makes everything wrong in the world feel right. She looks like a princess, between loose chestnut curls that frame her face perfectly and perfectly shaped lips dusted with a soft pink. Jack can’t think of a boy who hasn’t wanted her at some point, outside of Allebach who doesn’t really take interest in women anyways. She’s perfect and fragile. Jack can't wait to break her. 

“Hey Harmony.” She lifts her head up and smiles genuinely at Jack, as if the entire school isn’t gossiping about his mother. “I was um. Wondering if maybe you wanted to go out sometime. Kinda like a date but it ends with… something else?” Her eyebrows raise as she gives Jack what he can only describe as the most sultry smile he’s ever seen.

“What’s in it for me? I would like to know the benefits before I dive headfirst into this.”

“Me.” Harmony’s lips part as she gives him another smile, looking like she’s 4 seconds from agreeing. She opens her mouth to respond again, but is cut off by seeing something. And Jack feels it just as the girl he’s desperately trying to hook up with catches glimpse. Ralph. The boy has an iron grip on the sleeve of Jack’s t-shirt, one that Jack swears is going to rip the fabric.

“Piss off Harmony.” The blond says her name like it’s poison, burning his tongue. “He’s not here to be another one of your many sex toys. Maybe go talk to the other 30 boys lined up at your back door so Will doesn’t see them enter. As for you,” He turns to Jack, eyes ablaze with anger. “Don’t talk to her. She’s a whore and isn’t worth anyone’s time, even yours.” Harmony looks like she’s about to explode with rage, jumping to her feet the moment Ralph calls her a whore. Jack himself can’t believe that any of this is actually happening, almost impressed with how blunt Ralph is being. Instead he looks between the girl who he once thought was sweet and innocent and sees something he didn’t before. Something she probably tried to keep hidden. Makeup around her neck and collarbones, most likely hiding love bites from past rendezvous. For once in his life, Jack chooses to listen to Ralph. 

“Actually. Ignore the offer. I think I’ll be just fine on my own. Y’know. Doing my own thing and not you.” Ralph hides a laugh behind his hand, covering it up as a cough. 

“Oh fuck off Ralph. You act like you’re so high and mighty. You’re just a worthless reject who has too pretty of a face to have a brain. This is why your dad doesn’t love you anymore.” And Jack finds his arms holding Ralph back as he struggles while Harmony flees like a gazelle from a lion. Ralph manages a kick to Jack’s shin, making him swear under his breath as he tightens his grip on Ralph. The fair boy is flailing now, desperately trying to escape the redheads grasp.

“Jack let me go!” Ralph tries to kick the freckled boy, gasping loudly when Jack only makes the hold on Ralph so tight that it borders painful.

“And let you knock someone’s teeth out?! Not happening. You need to calm the  _ fuck  _ down. She’ll learn her lesson another way. You getting suspended and kicked off the soccer team isn’t worth it.” That seems to clear the fair boy’s head and he mumbles swear words in response, untangling himself from Jack. 

“Thank you. Still don’t really like you though.” Jack nods in agreement, happy that he had been there to stop Ralph. Otherwise he’d definitely be without a partner for this project. And as much as it stung his tongue to say, to pass the class he needed Ralph Allebach like he needed air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody:  
> Ralph 👊✊🤜🤜✊🤛✊👊🤛✊🤛  
> Anyways thanks for reading! I accidentally made this chapter like 200 words over too 😬😬


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is halfway through this fic and I highly suggest taking a break around now. Get some water, go eat! Move around a bit, if it’s after 11 pm, try to get some sleep!! 💙❤️💙❤️

Ralph walks with him to English that day, a strange sight to see for the rest of his classmates. He can hear a couple of sharp inhales and whispers as they pass, Ralph still brooding in his anger. He is mumbling about how much he hates Harmony and how stupid Jack was to trust her façade, let alone fall for her just like everyone else. He lets Ralph spit insults at him, directing him away from anyone who looks a little too long and makes the fair boy tense up. Between the situation with his mother and now having to grab the Golden Boy by the shoulders and physically move him away from half the student body, Jack has a feeling he’ll be the center of gossip for a little while longer amongst his peers. As much as he hates the attention, he’s happy that he’s learning. He’s learning about Harmony, Roger, Simon, and most importantly, Ralph. 

The fair boy has a mask on. It’s one that looks just like him, only bubbly and energetic. It’s the Ralph that he presents to the student body. The Ralph that everyone sees from afar. Someone who makes graduation speeches and gives motivational words before a game that his team is unsure about winning. He presents himself in a way that would make everyone else believe he had a life that they would be jealous of. That everything went his way and he couldn’t possibly be any less perfect. No negative emotions, no fights, nothing impure leaving his mouth. But now Jack knows better. The fair boy is cracked. He’s a normal person, nothing insanely special. Sure he is oddly attractive for someone in high school, and he’s insanely athletic. However, from what Jack has seen the fair boy show to him, all Ralph wants is a normal life. He wants to spit gross words at people’s feet when they hurt him. He doesn’t want the stress of keeping a perfect image. If he didn’t know any better, Jack would say that Ralph wants the life Jack lives. And the redhead wants the life Ralph lives. If they switched bodies, he’s not sure either of them would really be mad. 

“I hate her. I hate her more than I hate anything.” And Jack is pulling Ralph into the boy’s bathroom, checking to make sure that all the stalls were empty. The only person standing there was a boy whose arms and legs were a little too long and whose face was decorated with acne. Jack knows that he’ll scatter once the fair boy starts raising his voice, but for now his eyes that are hidden behind hideously thick framed glasses are going wide. He’s just letting the water run over his hands now, focus completely on them as his greasy blond hair falls in his eyes. Instead of spending any more time on the underclassman, Jack grabs Ralph’s shoulders a little too roughly. It catches the soccer star’s attention though, anger burning like a wildfire through his ocean blue eyes. The redhead tightens his grip, Ralph’s face still just as challenging as it was before. The way his lips curl up with disdain, not for the boy holding him cruelly, but for the girl who tried to convince his partner to sleep with her. Ralph was a volcano minutes from eruption and all Jack was trying to do was make sure he was the only one who truly got burnt. 

“Jack you and I both know her motives. She’s been with 8 guys in the past 2 months! You don’t find that even slightly suspicious? Not at all? She wears this innocent look and yet the moment you bring up sex she’s ready to give you sloppy toppy in a bathroom stall!” Ralph wriggles his way out of Jack’s grasp, soft skin brushing against calloused hands as the freckled boy tries to find the words to say that he wouldn’t let her do that. That he would force Harmony back up to her feet so that he could keep whatever shred of self respect he has left. Instead, he watches Ralph lock eyes with the other boy, who is now shuffling closer to the door in a desperate attempt to let these boys duke it out. Jack’s eyes flicker between the boy and his partner, a name entering his brain. The boy was in the choir, a tenor. 

“John. How about you leave before you can’t anymore.” And the boy is nodding so quickly that his glasses are falling down his swollen looking nose. His shoes make ear splitting squeaks against the tile and as the door is shoved open, the boy starts squealing about how Allebach and Merridew are about to paint the mildew ridden tiles with each other’s blood. 

“Plan on breaking my nose Merridew? If so I think we’ll have to talk it out a little. I don’t plan on bleeding today so I wouldn’t really recommend throwing punches my way. I won’t hesitate to knock you on your ass like I’ve been doing since 6th grade.” Ralph gives him a smile that reads nothing but malicious. The air in the room is a dangerous mixture of hatred from rivalry and the tension of yesterday night, making a thin layer of sweat cover Jack’s body. If a spark was lit between them, they’d be on top of each other trying to beat the shit out of their partner. The atmosphere makes Jack temporarily forget how to form sentences, body buzzing with the adrenaline that comes before he feels bones crack from underneath his knuckles. He can practically feel the energy seeping from his body and into the floor, rooting him in place. But just as his childhood rival said, neither of them were here to hurt each other. Not now, not in this setting. Perhaps if Jack wasn’t on the brink of expulsion and Ralph 2 referrals away from being knocked off the team. The fair boy tugs at the sleeves of his jacket, the school’s team plastered proudly across the back in fading letters. It’s got to be the jacket he received freshman year, royal blue now dulled from time and silver becoming white. 

The fair boy reaches up to run a hand through his blond locks messily, his shirt folding and creasing with every movement. Nothing about the way he’s holding himself says that he’ll leave his position. He just looks frustrated. What’s really getting underneath his skin that shouldn’t affect him as much as it is, is that Jack can’t tell whether Ralph is on the edge with him or just with the events of recently. He really shouldn’t care. He should turn his back and walk away, spitting venom at this boy. Roger was right about how he used people. Left them broken, expecting them to pick up the pieces and just throw their life back together like a jigsaw puzzle. But what Ralph fails to realize every time he does it is that sometimes the puzzle pieces don’t always fit. If you soak them in water and crush them in your fist, they won’t ever press into each other like they used to. It has been seen by the school time and time again. People fall for Ralph, or simply seek out a friendship, and can never get close enough to stay by his side. Those who remain throw everyone else in their life away just to feel like they’re on top of the world standing by his side. Like nobody can touch them even if they tried. Jack has been warned of that feeling for so long. And yet he's craved it since he was little. Since he first saw Ralph on that playground, wailing because a piece of mulch was lodged in his hand. He’s wanted to feel like he was standing on the highway mountain, the closest city being a speck on the horizon since that moment. Only Ralph can give him that feeling. His desire for that single moment takes over his body, forcing him forwards. Forcing his hand on Ralph’s shoulder. His eyes start searching for something inside this boy that perhaps he didn’t see before. A crack in his perfectly sculpted mask.

“Ralph. I don’t want to get all sappy. I don’t want you to think that this moment changes the past or alters the future. But. For 3 weeks I need you. I need you like the ocean needs the moon to have tides, I need you like a flower needs a bee. God fucking dammit I need you like I’ve never needed anything! So please… Just fucking… Stay out of trouble and help me here.” He hates how desperate he sounds, voice filled with something that the redhead has never heard before. Remorse. He sounds like he genuinely needs Ralph, not like he’s just trying to push this feeling off on the project or the fact that he could fail high school. Like Ralph could change his life and he craves that. The freckled boy watches as the fair boy’s eyes widen to the point where if Jack didn’t just do the equivalent of pouring his heart out to the blond, he would make fun of him for it. Maybe even snap a couple photos. But all he can do is stand there, preparing for the consequence of the damage he seems to cause every time he opens his mouth around Ralph. He vaguely registers an audible swallow from his partner, eyes hidden by the lids, scanning the floor as if there's something he lost laying upon it. Plush lips press against each other and for once, both of their pride is shoved away. Thrown in an old shoe box that holds things one wants to forget about and tossed on the top shelf of a closet. Where the owner hopes to never see it again until they truly need to. 

Ralph’s like a tidal wave. Unstoppable even once he hits the land. Once powerful enough, he destroys everything that’s in his path. And Jack is a wildfire. Burning everything he touches and turning it to ash. Every single thing he begins to burn can be put out by water. _Every single thing._ He and Ralph are made to be put together as one. They’re the final piece to each other’s puzzle.

“Jack I… There's so much you don’t know. About me. About who I am, about what I’ve seen. Where I’ve been. And I think I’m ready to tell you _everything_. Just not now. Not here. We have to go to English soon anyways or it’ll be another tardy.” Just another red mark on a sheet of paper. Just another step closer to being expelled. Just another step closer to losing any and everything he could ever want. “So… My house? Tonight? We’ll work on the project. You can probably stay over for dinner if my father lets a Merridew take residence in our house without interjection. I’ll tell you as much as I feel comfortable sharing. Perhaps… You’ll see quite how similar we are.” Jack feels the corner of his mouth twitch up, but not in disgust or rage. Ralph earned a genuine smile from him and the fair boy is beaming back, sunlight practically radiating off of him in waves. Everything he thought about Ralph before was written in sand. Carved with childish fingers. Each divot, each crevice, each little line was something he held onto from his past like his life depended on it. Like his fingers now could mirror the design and everything would still be the same. With a gust of wind and a couple rain drops, the words had been washed away and the slate cleaned. This wasn’t the same boy that he had picked fights with all those years ago. He had grown up, the same way that Jack had. Built thicker skin, found who he could really trust and who would tear him apart until he was bloody and on his knees. Ralph doesn’t use people. He doesn’t think he was better than everyone and that’s why he pushes them away. He sees the bad in people and sees how people, people like Jack, only want to talk to him to be considered popular. To feel euphoria. He was selective with his friends because those who got too close, who came for one thing and got more than they asked for, would kick Ralph’s feet out from under him in order to take his place. Perhaps he’s seen that Jack won’t do that. Perhaps he sees something in the redhead that not even the boy himself can see. No matter the case, he let Jack know that he trusts him. Handed him a silver platter with the opportunity of a lifetime. All the redhead can do is accept and let the boy everyone views as perfect show that he’s just another kid in a fucked up world.

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


Jack is able to get a better look at Ralph’s house with the sun sinking over the horizon and the skies mostly clear. It’s one of the fancier middle class houses, pillars out front, porch decorated with little trinkets on a glass table. Flowers sit in pots next to the wooden front door. Everything appears to have a place, even things that the average human being throws down and never thinks about again until it’s needed. The fair boy opens the door, letting Jack inside first and it’s exactly how the redhead remembers, except there’s no towel thrown around his head this time. Something else is different the second time Jack steps foot into the Allebach residence. A man in a business suit and a pen in between his perfectly straight teeth is standing in the hallway, scrawling words onto what looks like a form for a business. An old newspaper is clutched in between his fingers, the lack of a wedding ring being what stands out most to Jack. In fact, he’s never heard about Ralph’s mom despite having known the boy for years. He kind of just assumed that she was a busy woman, never having enough time in her schedule to spend time with her family. But perhaps there was something else that he wasn’t catching. Laying in between the lines of the family’s perfect appearance. 

“Father, this is Jack Merridew. He’s working with me on the project I told you about. He’ll be leaving immediately after we finish.” The man looks up sharply at the mention of Jack’s name and the redhead finally understands why Ralph is so intimidated by his father. It’s no secret that the fair boy’s father used to be a navy officer, broad shoulders proving that he still had muscle from his old career. Now he was a simple banker, something that made Jack stifle a laugh because of the Merridew family’s status. A banker against a savvy businessman who doubled as the mayor seemed like an easy fight. However, Mr. Allebach had piercing blue eyes that didn’t soften when he looked at things like Ralph’s did. They remained hard like chips of ice, never having enough love to melt. He had a polished appearance, like even in his sleep garments he would look ready to attend a meeting. The glasses that sit upon the bridge of his nose don’t look anything like his sons. Instead, you could’ve told Jack that the man had gotten them from the 1950s and he would’ve believed you. Square brown frames, making the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes stick out like a beacon in the dark. He looks harsh, like he won’t hesitate to raise his voice at Ralph when the boy makes simple mistakes. Jack decides very quickly that his parents never seeing him is better than his parents forcing an image onto him. 

“A Merridew? You know we don’t allow any members of that wretched family to step foot in our house.” Ralph’s breath catches in his throat, gaze falling to the ground as if his father’s eyes burn his with their intensity. “But I suppose we can make an exception just this once. However, if I catch this boy in my house once more, I will not hold back from forcefully removing him. Is that understood, young man?”

“Yes sir.” The words are robotic outside of the blond’s mouth and his father gives him a gruff ‘good’ as an acknowledgement. Jack doesn’t like Ralph. He never really has. The Ralph standing in front of him, going down so easily without a fight, isn’t the Ralph he’s used to seeing. He almost feels bad. The Ralph in front of him has no emotion on his face, has posture so perfect that it had to have been beat into his brain, has a tone that’s so devoid of feeling and steady that it’s slightly concerning to Jack. Everything about him that makes Ralph _Ralph_ has been flipped on its head. It’s painful inside, making the redhead’s heart ache with some sort of sympathy. 

The Golden Boy just pulls him along dark hallways, lit by candles on the wall until they reach a tall dark oak door. There’s a tree carved into it with little names on plates, Ralph’s falling at the very bottom. It’s his lineage, all the way to the top. It’s a beautiful carving, each leaf and vine done with a delicate hand. But Jack doesn’t have much time to get a good look because his partner shoves the door open before he can see much more.

If there’s one thing that differs from the rest of the house it’s got to be Ralph’s room. At first, he thought it was the living room due to the warm light of the fireplace and cozy atmosphere but it doesn’t really compare to how you feel when you walk into the boy’s bedroom. The wall is lined with paintings of sunflowers on a baby blue wall, a signature at the bottom reading ‘Cynthia Allebach.’ The room itself is decently organized, except for a couple of items laying on a dresser. A conch shell, a snow globe that has to be at least 50 years old, and a photograph of two women holding a baby between them. One of the women has short curls that go in every direction, blonde hair bouncing in the photo. Paint stains cover her hands and her retro shirt, a bandana holding her hair in place. The other woman is more refined, expensive looking earrings clipped in her ears, a matching necklace, and a crisp looking forest green dress. The photo has ‘First family gathering - 1999’ written on it in swooped handwriting and it makes Jack wonder if the baby is Ralph. It’s the only logical explanation. 

“That’s my mother.” His voice makes Jack jump, before looking over to his left. Ralph’s eyes are glassy and he appears so far off, as if he is reliving the memories. “She was always so excited to be with me. Spent hours painting this room with her sister just so I could have a place that felt safe. She would spend hours baking with me, letting me lick batter off of the beaters. Everything was so perfect. We were living up to what everyone thought we were. A happy stay at home mom, a navy father, and a son who was given the world and then some. But she got sick…” Ralph picks up the frame and gently rubs his thumb against the brass casing, voice so far away. “She couldn’t get better. My dad quit his job to work locally so he could be with her. Every day we would visit the hospital in hopes of better news. In hopes that she would one day be let out. It never happened. She passed 3 months after she was admitted, in her sleep. It was peaceful according to the nurse. But we were devastated. My father lost a wife and I lost my mom. My aunt flew in from New York for the funeral, helping us pack up all of her items and put them in the attic. Nothing was harder than watching all of my mother’s things be thrown in cardboard boxes, taped up, and placed in a dusty place for the rest of eternity. So I kept a few things, just what my father could part with easily. A conch shell that she told me gave me the power to be a great leader one day, a snowglobe that was hers when she was little that plays let it snow, and the first photo taken with me in it. So when I miss my mom, I remember that a part of her lives in me and that she’s not really gone. She’s somewhere that the cruelty of this world can’t touch her.” Tears have fallen off of Ralph’s golden lashes and down his cheeks, nose now pink from the sniffling he’s been doing. Jack gently takes the frame from his hands, placing it in the same exact place it once sat. He’s never been good at comforting people. He usually tells them to suck it up and punches their arm. 

“Ralph…” The fair boy looks at him with watery eyes and Jack’s heart breaks. Not because he thinks of Ralph in a different way, but because of all the people in the world to pick to talk about his mother to, he picked Jack. “I know she’s gone. And I know you miss her, probably more than I will ever understand. It must’ve been hard to open up… I respect that, and I want you to know that even though it might not really mean that much, especially from me, I’m here for you.” Ralph sniffles, tears now actively flowing down his cheeks like a waterfall and Jack is frozen in place. He has no idea what to do, besides stand there and try to comfort the boy with words but his mouth and gone dry. 

Ralph slowly takes his hand from his side and his fingertips brush against Jack’s shoulder, sending shivers down his spine. He grasps the redhead’s shoulder firmly despite the state he’s in. Their eyes meet and something between them shifts. Perhaps it’s the atmosphere they’ve surrounded themselves with. The hatred is slowly dissolving like sugar in water. Ralph is waiting for words to pour out of Jack’s mouth, but everything just evaporates on his tongue. So the fair boy does it for him. 

“Does this mean we’re friends now?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is like. 2,000 words over and I hope you enjoy! Just gay boys doing what gay boys do

**Author's Note:**

> rIDE OR DIE LADS, I DIDNT EDIT THIS AT ALL


End file.
